House Rules
by Captain Tiny
Summary: Modern AU. Since they have moved in together, it has become clear that the barricade boys (and Éponine) need a list of guidelines for proper conduct within the house. Enjolras/Eponine, Marius/Cosette and Courfeyrac/Jehan.
1. The List

_**Les Amis de l'ABC**_** House Rules:**

Covering your head with pot noodles and shouting "VIVE LA FRANCE!" is a poor imitation of Enjolras and is in no way amusing.

Convincing Joly that he has pneumonia when he sneezes is unacceptable. If you insist on doing it anyway, you are responsible for dealing with his panic attack.

Anyone that calls Eponine up on her foul language will get what's fucking coming to them.

Eponine is not a messenger pigeon. If you insist on writing letters when you have a perfectly functional phone, deliver them yourself.

Gavroche is not to be given sugar before 11 o clock in the morning, and after 8 o clock in the evening, or suffer being locked in the spare bedroom with him until he's calmed down.

Setting up Enjolras's auto correct on his computer so that "France" is replaced with "my mistress" in his dissertation on the social and economic divide of the country will result in your Sims 3 disc being hidden for a maximum of 2 months.

Rifling through his underwear drawer and flying his bright red boxers on the TV aerial and shouting "VIVE LA BUTTS!" on the roof at 3 o clock in the morning will result in the deletion of the any Glee episode recorded on the Sky Box.

Courfeyrac's fortnightly Musical evening must not be disturbed, under pain of death. Or being subject to his drunken rendition of Fly, Fly Away from Catch Me If You Can.

You may only join him if you agree to duet with him for What is this Feeling? from Wicked.

Greeting Bahorel's date in the morning with "Nice to meet you, you're prettier than the last one." is not funny and you run the risk of castration if you attempt it.

Anyone that takes Grantaire and Eponine's Ben and Jerry's without permission must replace it within 24 hours, or interest in way of extra tubs will accumulate at a rate of two Chocolate Fudge Brownie's a day for the first three days, and then a Cookie dough added to that for every subsequent day.

If you cannot fit the ice cream you owe them in the freezer, you are at their beck and call to buy it tub by tub for them until the debt is repaid.

Throwing things at Marius when he starts talking about Cosette is only permitted after the 10th offense of the day. Shouting "NO ONE CARES ABOUT YOUR LONELY SOUL." is acceptable at any time.

The battle to decide which team Eponine plays Halo with on Halo Night (every other Thursday) shall be carried out the night before. As the subject of the duel, Eponine gets to choose the mode of battle. Teams pick one member from the opposing side to participate.

Just because Courfeyrac discovered Eponine's talent for Halo does not mean he gets any special treatment in battle.

Gavroche is not allowed to play. Stop giving him the controller.

Posting Jean's poem drafts through people's letterboxes with a note underneath reading "my poetry is as powerful as my loins" and his phone number attached is banned.

"I would climb you like a barricade", is an atrocious pick up line. Anyone caught using it inside the house has to stand in the corner of shame for 20 minutes.

When Eponine and Enjolras actually show affection in front of anyone else, it is unacceptable to gaze in mock awe and whisper "the marble man has cracked" in an ethereal manner. If you continue to do it, all rights to protect your testicles from Eponine's Dr Marten's are relinquished.

When Cosette is visiting, being rude to her face is absolutely off-limits. Pretending to vomit or shoot one's self when her and Marius get cosy is tolerated.

We are not starting a bowling team called "The Barricade Boys". Stop asking.

If you choose to help Gavroche with his homework, you must be sensible, or face the wrath of his teacher alone.

Joly is not permitted to visit the doctor or the hospital alone. Reckless abandonment in a place of healing results in the discomfort of other patients and an attempt to have Joly institutionalised.

"Enjy" is not an appropriate nickname for a 3rd Year University Student. Unless said student just referred to you as "Eppy."

Hiding Feuilly's polish sausages around the house and playing _kielbasa hunt_ is only sanctioned if you can remember how many are hidden. If you forget about one, you are responsible for cleaning up the mess when it is discovered.

Telling Joly about the mould that was growing on the one underneath Lesgle's bed is hereby prohibited. Some of us don't want to spend our Saturday afternoons restraining him as he tries to compulsively bleach every surface in the house.

During exams, everyone must keep an eye on Enjolras, and the coffee supply. If he has had more than 4 cups before midday, confiscate the kettle and force him to relax.

Remember that no matter how much he protests, remind him firmly that it is for his own good, and staying up for 5 days and nights consecutively to revise will adversely affect his health.

Using Eponine to distract him is distasteful and unappreciated.

However, telling him he's working too hard by singing Dancing Through Life from Wicked is unwelcome. If you partake, you risk having heavy politics textbooks thrown at you. (There is safety in numbers, and flying books can be avoided by performing as an ensemble.)

If you insult Musichetta's coffee, you are subject to 3 unpaid shifts at the Musain, and you will be totally at her mercy.

The keycode to the alcohol cabinet is hereby to be changed weekly by Enjolras. Anyone wishing to have a drink must see him first.

Anyone caught giving the code to Grantaire during the week will have to suck on a lemon.

If you move Enjolras's books out of alphabetical order, you will be required to cook him dinner for 5 days.

Responding to the question "who's there?" with "THE FRENCH REVOLUTION!" got old after the 238th time.

"Enjolras did it." is not an acceptable excuse for Gavroche to use the living room furniture to build a barricade.

If Montparnasse turns up at the door, **unleash hell.**

Disney movies are compulsory for every occupant of the house.

Just because Combeferre thinks himself philosophical, does not mean you can reply to everything he says with "why?".

When Peter, Jacques and Azelma finally move in, there will not be a competition to see who can corrupt them first.

**Anyone who does not comply to these rules will will subject to a trial. The punishment will be delegated in accordance with the severity of the disregard.**


	2. i

**A/N: This is dedicated viralsfan101, who suggested I do a one shot per rule. Naturally I couldn't resist. Thank you for the wonderful idea. :)**

* * *

**_1. Covering your head with pot noodles and shouting "VIVE LA FRANCE!" is a poor imitation of Enjolras and is in no way amusing._**

* * *

Enjolras groans audibly as he looks up from his computer at the large clock hanging on the wall. It's half past 3 in the morning. He's been working on this paper for almost 6 hours, and the progress he's made is minimal. Not only that, but the clubs and bars littering the centre of Paris will be closing up, which means the boys will be tumbling through the front door any minute now.

He packs his laptop away, and returns the reference books to the shelf behind the sofa. The last thing he needs is Grantaire using them as a drinks coaster.

He opens his bedroom door, expecting Éponine to be sound asleep. What he found was her small figure propped up against the pillows, furiously highlighting a textbook, her teeth capturing her bottom lip as she frowns at the pages in frustration.

Enjolras smiles warmly at her.

"Ep?"

She jumps, dropping the pen and yelping in fright.

"Jesus Enj, don't sneak up on me like that."

"Ep, I'm still standing by the door."

She raises an eyebrow at him skeptically, then checks her phone which is lying on the bedside table.

"The boys will be home in a few minutes. I'd better get some decent pajamas on, they're bound to want some form of food and there's no way I'm going to let them cook drunk again."

Enjolras laughs, remembering how Feuilly had almost burnt the house down by trying to toast one of his fans "because it looked tasty".

He watches from the door as Éponine changes from her oversized t shirt into some plaid bottoms and a white tank top.

She wanders out into the living room and Enjolras follows her, snaking his arms round her waist and burying his head in her neck. She takes one of his hands and kisses his palm lightly. They remain together in comforable silence for a few moments until voices filter in from the road outside the house, and Éponine disentangles herself from Enjolras, smiling.

"Dude shut up! They might be asleep!"

"Yeah but if they're not we might be able to catch them in the act!"

"That's disgusting! Gav is still there!"

"I LIKE CHEESE!"

Éponine suppresses a snort at the last outburst, and after a few unsuccessful and loud attempts to open the front door, it swings open and a rabble of drunken students fall inside. Grantaire looks at Éponine and Enjolras standing on opposite sides of the room and his face falls.

"Damnit guys! They were expecting us!"

"I'm really hungry!" Courfeyrac whines and Éponine rolls her eyes as she saunters into the kitchen to make something.

"That was such a wicked night! You should have been there Enj! You missed Joly asking Musichetta out!"

"It was beautiful." Stated Jean, with misty eyes.

"I'm gutted, truly. But unfortunately I had a paper to write."

"Guys?" Éponine's head pops out from the kitchen. "The only thing I can make in 5 minutes is pot noodles. Everyone good with that?"

Noises of ascent go up from the group, and Enjolras flops onto the couch and pulls out a book, while the rest of the boys stumble around or collapse on the floor.

The microwave dings and Enjolras can hear a small skirmish coming from the kitchen. Giggles follow suit and he looks up to see Grantaire wandering back in with what seemed to be the entire container of pot noodles dumped on his head.

"I was going to eat that!" Courfeyrac sounds disappointed, but Grantaire just grins.

"Don't worry Courf, it's all for a good cause. We're going to play a guessing game. Okay? So. Guess who I am."

Grantaire draws himself up to his full height and places his hands on his hips. He struts up and down the room, looking for all the world like a human peacock, save for the mess of food covering his hair.

Blank faces stare back at him.

"Oh come on it's not difficult!" He protests. " Okay, what about now?" He goes to the coffee table and clambers up onto it, desperately trying to keep the noodles from falling off. He adopts a pained expression, looking into the distance. Then he raises his hand dramatically and shouts "VIVE LA FRANCE! "

The entire room collapses into hysterical laughter. Enjolras looks on, unimpressed.

"That's really not funny, R."

His words are lost among the noise, and to his annoyance even Éponine has tears running down her cheeks as Grantaire strides around the living room, looking intense.

"PATRIA IS MY ONE TRUE LOVE. SHE IS MY MISTRESS. LADIES ARE GROSS."

"Wow, R. I didn't think you could get any less funny."

Enjolras is apparently the only one that holds this view, because Grantaire's outburst only serves to make everyone else laugh harder.

"VIVE LA FRA-"

Grantaire trips over his own feet and ends up sprawled on the floor in a tangle of limbs.

Roars of mirth erupt from the group as he attempts to right himself, and even Enjolras feels the corners of his mouth twitch in the beginning of a smile.

"Alright, enough now. I have lectures in the morning and I really would like to get some sleep."

Enjolras's statement is met with groans from the drunk rabble on the floor, but eventually they all traipse haphazardly to their respective rooms.

When the room is finally empty, he looks over at Éponine, who is still leaning casually against the kitchen door, and raises his eyebrows at her. She snorts and collapses into a fresh fit of laughter.

Seriously Enj, your face when he shouted 'ladies are gross'. I think I was nearly sick."

"It was a poor impression of me." Enjolras protests.

"Are you kidding? The resemblance was uncanny!"

Enjolras doesn't reply, but goes to a stack of drawers by the TV and pulls out a large pad of paper and a pen, and a piece of selotape.

"What on earth are you doing?" Éponine asks, still laughing quietly.

Enjolras finishes scribbling on the paper, then sticks it to the fridge, stepping back to admire his handiwork.

"Les Amis de l'ABC House Rules," Éponine reads. She looks at Enjolras in disbelief. "You cannot be serious."

"I am deadly serious. Anyone may add to the list as they see fit, and I have started it with a very important guideline."

"You're wrong. It was funny, _you _just have no sense of humour."

"So you remind me daily."


	3. ii

**_2. Convincingly Joly that he has pneumonia when he sneezes is unacceptable. If you insist on doing it anyway, you are responsible for dealing with his panic attack._**

* * *

Éponine looks up at the sky in disbelief as the first drops of rain fall lightly onto her face, and her nose wrinkles in displeasure. 10 minutes ago the sky had been a hazy, azure blue; now it was greyer than steel, and the smell of a storm hangs in the air. She turns to the small group of people following her.

"Alright guys, I suggest we split up. I don't fancy wandering around in a downpour, but if we go home empty handed, there will be hell to pay. Nobody wants to see Enj throw a sulk, do they?"

There is a fervent shaking of heads, and Éponine laughs.

"There is bound to be a supermarket or stall that sells them somewhere. Text if you find anything."  
She walks away, keeping her eyes peeled, as the rain becomes heavier. She wraps her arms around herself for warmth, scowling at her lack of appropriate clothing.

_Enj, I actually hate you. _

* * *

Enjolras winces as he watches the light drizzle outside the window morph into a torrential downpour. Not because he feels sorry for Éponine and her posse, but because he knows full well that when she gets back, there is going to be hell to pay, as if he somehow knew the weather was going to change.

Returning to the kitchen to chop vegetables, he prepares for the inevitable explosion.

Eventually he hears the smack of several pairs of feet against wet pavement, then the frantic jangling of keys. The door bursts open and several drenched bodies rush inside. He puts down the knife and surveys the group for a second, as all 5 faces glare at him in silence. The only noise is the steady drip of water onto the carpet.

Éponine wordlessly holds out a soaked paper bag, staring at him icily and he accepts it, holding back a smirk.

"I hope you appreciate how fucking difficult it is to get strawberries at this time of year."

Enjolras gives her a small bow of appreciation, accompanied by a the hint of a smile, before returning to his cooking.

"That's it? That's all I get? A nod? I look like a fucking drowned rat and all I get is a nod!" She calls after him. "Why the fuck do you even need strawberries?"

Enjolras ignores her, but laughs quietly at her outrage.

Her subsequent eruption is drowned out by Joly's shout of "I call dibs on first bath!"

Enjolras hears Joly race up the stairs accompanied by complaints from the rest of the group. Joly's baths always lasted at least an hour, but if Joly washed after anyone else, the previous user of the bathroom was subject to a lengthy lecture on proper hygiene conduct, so the entire household was always locked in a catch-22.

When he walks into the living room, dinner safely in the oven, he finds Éponine, Grantaire, Feuilly and Bahorel all in their underwear huddled under a pile of blankets, desperately attempting to warm up and dry off.

He poorly masks a snort of mirth as a cough and Éponine's eyes narrow as she looks at him.

"Let it be known, Olivier Enjolras, that I am never going out to buy you out of season ingredients for your annoying baking habits, ever again."

"As you say, Mademoiselle Thenardier."

Her eyes tighten even further. "If you take the piss anymore, I swear to god I will move into Combeferre's room."

Her empty threat only makes him laugh, and she lets out a frustrated shout as he goes back to the kitchen to make use of the strawberries.

A loud sneeze echoes from upstairs, and Enjolras freezes. He hurries into the living room to find similar expressions painted on everyone else's faces.

"Was that-?"

"Yep." Grantaire cuts across him.

"Fuck."

Éponine's eyes widen in alarm. "Courf is upstairs."

Feuilly leaps from the sofa and races up the stairs at a speed Enjolras previously assumed to be impossible.

Only moments later, he returns, panic etched all over his face.

"He's already in there."

Enjolras marches up the stairs closely followed by Éponine, dreading what they faced when they opened the bathroom door.

Éponine looks at Enjolras before they push against the wood, and he gives her a small nod, jaw set.

Joly's face is as white as a sheet, staring transfixed at Courfeyrac, who was sitting on the edge of the bath, chatting animatedly.

"Of course, there are the less common symptoms: Nausea, coughing up blood, vomiting, wheezing, and sometimes it can even send you into a coma!"

"Shut the fuck up, right now."

He turns to look at them, grinning mischievously. "Oh hey guys! I was just filling in Joly on the symptoms of pneumonia!"

"We noticed." Enjolras's voice is low and threatening, but Courfeyrac's attention is on Éponine.

"You seem to be missing a few items of clothing Ep."

She raises one eyebrow at him coldly, ignoring the quip. "Why do you think it's so hilarious to work Joly up into a state?"

Courfeyrac's smile slides off of his face. "Oh come on, it was only a bit of fun. You can't even catch pneumonia from being out in the cold, it's caused by a bacterial infection!"

"Fascinating." Éponine deadpans. "Try telling that to him." She gestures with her head at Joly, whose breathing has become frantic and looks like he might be sick from fear.

"Oh well isn't that just peachy." Courfeyrac rolls his eyes, and makes to leave the bathroom. "Well have fun dealing with this, you guys."

He rushes past them before either one can react.

They look at each other, clearly not impressed, before turning their attention to the panicking man in the bath.

* * *

"I hope you're proud of yourself." Éponine shoots at Courfeyrac as she finally returns to the living room, almost an hour later. He grins at her, clearly ecstatic at his antics.

"At least you're fully dressed now."

She glares at him before she starts to rifle through the drawers, looking for a pen. She goes to the kitchen and scribbles enthusiastically underneath Enjolras's first note.

"Never again will I have to deal with your pathetic excuse for a joke ever again!" She exclaims triumphantly, loudly enough that Courfeyrac will hear her.

"I told you that list was a good idea."

Enjolras's voice makes her jump and she wheels around.

"I never said it wasn't a good idea, I just said _your_ rule was stupid."

He smiles at her affectionately. "Dinner is ready. Time to see if the trek for the strawberries was worth it."

"I just had to convince a 23 year old man that he hadn't been struck down with a potentially fatal disease. It had better be fucking worth it."

* * *

**A/N: So here is rule number 2! I hope you enjoy it. :D I am curious, which rule are people most looking forward to reading about? Also, if anyone has any suggestions for any of the rules, please message me. I'd love to hear your ideas! :D**

Also, I have been absolutely floored by the response to this fic so far! It still shocks me that you actually found it funny! So thank you so much, all your positive feedback is hugely appreciated. :)


	4. iii

_**3. Anyone that calls Eponine up on her foul language will get what's fucking coming to them.**_

* * *

The house is comfortably quiet. Enjolras taps away at his keyboard, in full swing of his most recent essay. He is aware of the TV in the next room, but it is not loud enough to interrupt him.

Joly is snoring quietly on the sofa, Combeferre is reading in the bay window, and Courfeyrac, for once, is not disturbing anyone. Bahorel is out with a girl, and the rest of the boys are still at lectures.

Enjolras stretches contentedly, a small smile crossing his face. Maybe there might actually be a Sunday afternoon where he doesn't have to act like the father to grown men.

The front door slams. Enjolras frowns. Today was obviously not going to be that day.

"FUCK!"

"Eponine's home," Combeferre calls from the living room. Enjolras steps out of his bedroom to find Eponine crouched at the drinks cabinet. She stands, clutching a bottle of whiskey.

"FUCK!" She repeats, storming into the kitchen.

Enjolras hears the clatter of glasses accompanied by more shouts.

"THAT TOTAL FUCKING WANKER. I SWEAR TO THE FUCKING GODS IN HIGH HEAVEN THAT I WILL SHOW THAT FUCKING BASTARD. WHO THE FUCK DOES HE THINK HE IS? SLIMY FUCKING PERVERT!"

Eponine stomps back into the room, stopping when she notices Enjolras looking at her, concerned.

She slams her glass down on the table, fills it with liquid and downs it in one, before addressing Enjolras.

"I WORK IN A BOOKSHOP. A _BOOKSHOP. _AND THAT MISERABLE FUCKER THINKS IT'S OKAY TO ASK ME FOR A LAP DANCE IN THE BACK ROOM. FUCKING NO!"

She downs another shot and surveys the room. Combeferre and Enjolras look at her, worried, but Joly just looks plain terrified at her rant.

"Do you think you could maybe perhaps possibly be angry with less coarse language?" He asks meekly.

"No I fucking couldn't," she snaps.

She lets out a frustrated shout, balling her fists and lights a cigarette. She fumes silently by the door, leaning against the wall. Enjolras exchanges and glance with Combeferre, who nods.

It's best to leave her until she calms down a little bit; let the fire burn out a little before anyone attempts rational conversation.

The quiet does not last long before Eponine begins another outburst.

"It's just so fucking unbelievable! It's not like I have a big sign on the checkout advertising sexual favours! Creepy fucker! I don't know what I have to do to stop perverts like him coming on to me in broad daylight! Why does he think he has the fucking right! A fucking bookshop! Fucking god!"

She takes another drag on her cigarette, and Joly makes a small noise of protest.

"Shut the fuck up Joly!" He cowers in fright under the ferocity of her icy stare, which she turns on Combeferre and Enjolras, daring them to call her up.

They say nothing, and she goes back to her cigarette, boring and hole in the floor with her eyes.

Courfeyrac saunters down the stairs. "Jesus, Ep. Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?"

She turns to glare at him, shooting daggers.

"Fuck. Off." She is no longer shouting, but the tone she adopts instead has the desired effect, and Courfeyrac's smile falters slightly.

"I'm just saying," he continues, raising his hands in defense, "that there are small and delicate ears in this house that need to be protected."

"Hey!" Gavroche appears on the upstairs landing, his head poking over the banister. "I'm not small or delicate!"

"I was talking about Joly," Courfeyrac calls up to him.

He turns his attention back to Eponine. "You might want to tone down for his sake."

Courfeyrac smirks and winks as Eponine bristles with anger.

She turns on her heel and stomps up the stairs.

"See?" Courfeyrac turns to the others, triumphantly. "She'll go and stew it out upstairs, and come back when she's calmed down."

Enjolras laughs. " Courf, if you really believe that, you don't know Eponine at all."

He gestures behind Courfeyrac, who turns to find Eponine coming back down the stairs. To his absolute horror, she is clutching his Catch Me If You Can playbill.

His eyes widen in panic. "What are you doing?"

She smiles maliciously, and pulls out her lighter.

"No!" Courfeyrac screams. "That's been signed by the whole cast!"

"That's a shame," she says offhand, flipping open the lighter and igniting it.

"I'm sorry!" He blurts out.

She pauses, dangling the booklet dangerously close to the small flame. "Go on."

"I'm sorry. You're allowed to swear as much as you like, your sailor's mouth is none of my business! Just please don't hurt it!"

Eponine smirks and drops the book on the floor and Courfeyrac almost collapses with relief.

She wanders into the kitchen, picking up the pen and scrawling underneath her last addition. She reads out the rule loudly so the occupants of the living room can hear her, then goes and stares very sincerely at Joly.

"It doesn't just mean Courf, Joly. I am not averse to moving the uncooked meat to the top shelf of the fridge."

Joly blanches and nods fervently. She turns to look at Courfeyrac, who is kneeling on the floor cradling his playbill.

"You really are ridiculous."

He shoots her a glare.

"You have _no_ soul_._"

She chuckles. "Well at least now you have fair warning for next time. Be very careful. I know where you've hidden your Billy Elliott one."

Combeferre and Enjolras howl with laughter as Courfeyrac whimpers quietly.

* * *

**A/N: Yes, I know this is a really fast update, but this one came really easily, and I wanted you guys to read it. :) I think I'm going to have to change this to a T Rating because of this chapter though. :p**

**I have no idea when I decided Courf was going to be obsessed with musicals, but it's a thing now.**

**For Meela, there isn't going to be any underlying plot to this story, it's just episodic one shots.**

**If anyone is interested in my headcanons for this fic, please by all means ask me about them on my tumblr (captaintiny) :)**

**Also, for anyone that's reading A Breath of Fresh Air, Chapter 5 should be up some time this evening :)**

**Enjoy!**


	5. iv

**A/N: I dedicate this chapter to Chloes-Cheese, who left me the most wonderful review after the last one. You can't escape being my friend now.**

* * *

**_4._** **_Éponine is not a messenger pigeon. If you insist on writing letters when you have a perfectly functional phone, deliver them yourself._**

* * *

Grantaire frowns. He is positive that he just heard the front door open and shut quietly. The clock reads half past 2, and more to the point, it's Wednesday morning.

_Who on earth is out at this time of night?_

Soft footfalls on the stairs confirm his suspicions; someone definitely just came inside. The paces creak on the loose floorboard outside his room, and carry on up the hall, pausing after a few steps.

Grantaire hears muffled voices, too quiet to identify the bodies they belonged to. He clambers out of bed, and listens at the door. The hushed whispers seem to be coming from outside Marius's room.

_Why is Marius getting callers in the middle of the night? More importantly, who the hell got access to the house?_

The steps get louder again, and Grantaire leaps back onto his bed. The feet pass by his door and return down the stairs, as quietly as they had appeared in the first place. He drifts back off to sleep too quickly to think any more about the identity of Marius's mystery guest.

In the morning, Grantaire wanders into the dining room to find Éponine sitting at the table, clutching a large mug of coffee, with dark circles under her eyes.

"Ep, you okay?"

She waves at him noncommittally, returning to the hot liquid in her cup.

"Why are you so tired?"

"Late night," she replies vaguely.

Grantaire furrows his brows, but says nothing more on the subject. He knows if she wants to share anything with him, she will.

* * *

"Éponine, where are you going?"

Enjolras looks up from his book as she walks over to the front door.

"Out." She shrugs, leaving without another word.

Enjolras frowns. She has been very reserved for the past few days; disappearing without explanation, and then spending hours cramming in revision for her exams.

He shakes his head and returns to his textbook, trying to push the uneasiness in pit of his stomach to the back of his mind.

She returns an hour later, coming back in silently and walking straight to the bedroom, without so much as a glance at Enjolras.

He waits a few minutes before following her. She is sat on the bed, writing notes furiously from the open book beside her.

"Ep, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, just got a lot of work to do for these exams." She replies, without looking up.

Enjolras assumes she is going to remain silent on the whereabouts of her venture out.

"Do you need any help?"

"Oh god, yes. This topic is killing me. I hate the French Monarchy." She looks completely relieved by the offer_. _Enjolras climbs onto the bed beside her, and together they start dragging through the long list of past French Kings and Queens. Enjolras occasionally interjects with comments on the political state of the country at the time, and Éponine makes a note of it at the side of the page. The two begin to relax, and Enjolras smiles to himself as Éponine giggles beside him.

Her phone buzzes and she dives on it as though it might explode. Enjolras looks at her, raising an eyebrow, questioningly.

"I don't want you poking your nose at my messages."

She reads the text and the smile disappears; her face clears of all emotion and settles into the mask that Enjolras finds so difficult to read.

"I've got to go." She says bluntly, and leaves the room without even saying goodbye.

Enjolras sighs sadly, looking down at her page.

_She didn't even finish her sentence._

* * *

Grantaire pokes his head into Éponine and Enjolras's room, to find the latter staring at the bed, lost in though, with his hands running through his hair despairingly.

"I heard Ep leaving. You guys haven't had a fight have you?"

Enjolras jumps at the sound of his voice. "No we haven't. I'm sure you would have heard it if we had."

Both men smile, albeit weakly.

"She's just disappeared again. She keeps going out secretly and I'm worried about her."

The confession takes Grantaire by surprise. It takes a lot to worry Enjolras.

"I'm sure everything is fine, Enj." His voice sounds more sincere than he feels.

* * *

Grantaire waits outside for her, determined to intercept her on her way back. He stands casually outside the front door, twirling a cigarette between his fingers.

When she finally appears, she blanks him completely and attempts to walk straight past him.

"Are you employed by the secret service or something?" Grantaire asks playfully.

Evidently Éponine is not in the mood for jokes because she just regards him coldly and enters the house.

* * *

Grantaire is woken that night by a whispered argument outside his door.

"Seriously Marius? It's 3 o clock in the morning! I have lectures in less than 6 hours, is this just a fucking joke to you?"

"Ep, you know I wouldn't normally ask-"

Marius is interrupted by Éponine scoffing loudly.

"You're always asking."

" You agreed to do this for me!"

"Not at 3 o clock in the fucking morning I didn't! Just cause I feel guilty doesn't mean you can get me out of bed!"

"You gave me one at half past two last week!"

"That was because I couldn't sleep so I went for a walk! It was my own fucking choice to be awake! I'm already going whenever you want me to during the day, leave me alone at night!"

_So it was Eponine I heard last week. _Grantaire thinks. _What has she done to feel guilty though? And what does Marius think he's doing using it against her?_

He realises the two are still rowing, and listens again.

"But she's leaving for holiday in a few days and there's so much more I want to talk to her about."

"Dude, it's not the fucking 1800s! You have her on Facebook for Christ's sake!"

"But it's not the same!"

Grantaire rolls his eyes. Marius is actually capable of whining even when he whispers.

"Please Ep."

"Fine. But I'm not doing it now. And you really need to learn where she lives. I'm not a fucking postman, and I'm not doing this forever."

Éponine walks briskly down the stairs and Grantaire hears her go back into her bedroom.

He stays motionless in his bed, trying to decide between keeping out of Éponine's business, and sticking up for his best friend. Eventually, the second option wins him over and he throws the covers off, marching to Marius's door.

He knocks quietly but insistently, and eventually Marius answers. He is wiping sleep from his eyes and Grantaire snorts.

"Don't fuck around, Marius, I know you've been awake. Where has Éponine been going?"

Marius looks at him sheepishly. He mumbles something incoherent.

"I'm sorry, what was that? Didn't quite catch that."

"She's delivering letters to Cosette."

"Are you fucking loopy? She's got her mid terms in less than a week, and you've got her delivering letters to your _girlfriend_?"

"She doesn't mind..." He begins meekly.

"Of course she doesn't, she's Éponine. She might be brash and blunt but all she wants to do is make people happy. She stayed up with me and held my hair out my face while I puked up an entire bottle of rum, the night before her placement interview. Just because you've known her the longest doesn't mean you get to treat her like a pissing courier service!"

Grantaire storms away without giving Marius a chance to respond.

* * *

Grantaire drags Enjolras away from the frying eggs and mushrooms the next morning.

"I found out where Éponine is going."

Enjolras turns to him. "Really? How?"

Grantaire relates the events of the night before and Enjolras's eyebrows disappear into his hair line.

"We can't talk to her about it. You know what she's like. Her affairs are her own, she'll go nuts if she thinks we're trying to interfere." His voice is incredibly calm, but he is frowning.

"What do we do then?"

"We can only hope your talk with Marius will knock some sense into him."

Grantaire nods, hoping that Enjolras is right.

* * *

When Éponine disappears yet again that afternoon, Grantaire finally snaps. He snatches up a pen and storms into the kitchen, writing the most passive aggressive message he can think of.

"Marius, can you come down here for a second please?"  
When Marius sees Grantaire's untidy scrawl underneath Éponine's, and Enjolras standing beside Grantaire with his arms folded defensively, his face sobers instantly.

"This has gone far enough. I don't care how crazy Éponine is going to be when she finds out I intervened, but she's my best friend and I'm not going to stand around and watch you treat her the way you are." Grantaire is shaking with anger. "Jesus, I need a drink."

He grabs a beer from the fridge and flops down on the sofa. Enjolras joins him, an identical beverage in his hand.

"Now we wait?" He asks the blonde boy.

"Now we wait."

Éponine slinks back inside 20 minutes later.

"Ep, you okay?" Grantaire asks.

She shrugs. "I guess. I've got a tonne of revision to do so I guess I'll get on with that now."

She goes to get something from the kitchen and wanders back in, face blank. Both Grantaire and Enjolras hold their breath.

"That's your handwriting isn't it, R?"

"Yep," he replies.

"How did you find out?"

"Your argument with Marius last night woke me up."

Éponine stares at him for a second.

"Thank you." She says quietly.

Grantaire looks at her warily. "Pardon?"

"Thank you." Éponine repeats. "For sticking up for me."

She offers no explanation as to why she kept delivering Marius's letters; no explanation alluding to why she let him ask so much of her. But that didn't matter to Grantaire. He smiles. " Don't mention it, Ep. It's what best friends are for."

She grins back.

"I reckon I've got time for one beer. Game of Thrones Season 2 anyone?"

Both boys cheer in response.

* * *

**A/N: Please don't hate me for the lack of amusement! I'll make up for it in the next two!**


	6. v

**A/N: If I've learnt one thing from the last chapter, it's****_ 'if you've read what you've written 6 times before you post it, read it a 7th just to be sure'. _****My computer deleted a chunk of dialogue, so that's been added in, and hopefully it alludes to why Eponine is wandering to and from Cosette's house all the time. **

**If you don't want to go back and read it, long story massively short: Marius is a total dick and Eponine feels really guilty, which is why she delivers the letters. It's going to get explained a bit more in a later chapter, so please bear with. It does make some sort of sense, honest.**

**Now that's sorted, have a hyperactive Gavroche. Much love :) x**

* * *

**_5. Gavroche is not to be given sugar before 11 o clock in the morning, and after 8 o clock in the evening, or suffer being locked in the spare bedroom with him until he's calmed down._**

* * *

Éponine races towards the house, cursing her lecturer under her breath.

_Why does he have to talk so slowly? If he sped up, we might actually finish on time._

She doesn't bother with her keys, she just pounds on the door until a flustered Feuilly answers it. She barges past him and dumps her bag by the sofa, running into the bedroom to grab her coat, ignoring Enjolras's surprised face.

" Shit shit shit shit, I am so late!"

" Woah, there speedy gonzalez! Slow down a second!"

She avoids Courfeyrac's arms with an expert swerve. " Can't. Late for Gav. Shit I'm so late!"

"Ep, seriously, relax. Combeferre went to pick him up for you."

She stops, and wheels to face him.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. Enjolras mentioned something about the slowest talking man in the history of forever and Combeferre went to get him in the car."

Éponine lets out a sigh of relief and flops on the sofa. "He's my favourite person in the whole world right now."

"I am offended, Éponine."

She turns to see Enjolras walking across the living room, and rolls her eyes.

"You're a marble statue, you don't count as a person."

He rolls his eyes back at her.

Éponine kicks her shoes off and slides down the seat until she is almost horizontal.

"I might ask 'Ferre to do this more often." The boys chuckle in response.

The sound of keys in the lock grab her attention.

Courfeyrac laughs quietly. "Speak of the devil, and he shall appear."

"'Ponine!" A small blur of blonde and blue barrels over to the sofa and flings itself at Éponine.

"Hey Gav, _ooft_, how was school?"

He looks up from her chest and grimaces. "Really boring. School sucks."

Éponine laughs. "It's not that bad, Gav."

He pouts, then his eyes light up mischieviously. "I think I'm going to need persuading." He says slowly, testing the waters.

Éponine raises her eyebrows. "Oh really?"

"I was thinking maybe, some chocolate?" He smiles innocently.

Éponine glances at the clock on the wall. "Alright. If I give you some chocolate will you agree that school is acceptable?"

Gavroche adopts a pensive expression, stroking an imaginary beard. "Perhaps," he says mysteriously.

Éponine snorts, and motions for him to move. "Stay here. You're not knowing where I keep the stash."

He grins as she wanders into the kitchen.

She returns with a bag of Cadbury buttons and Gavroche's light up. The bag dangles tantalisingly just beyond his reach.

"Don't eat them too fast."

He nods fervently, and she drops the bag in his lap.

Éponine swears she hears a whispered "score!" before he devours the chocolate.

He licks his fingers clean and looks at Éponine sincerely. "I am convinced." He states, and she laughs again.

"Good. Now go and do some homework."

Gavroche's smile disappears and he groans loudly.

"No buts, you got chocolate. Now go and do it, or I'll tell Penelope that you like her."

Gavroche pales and races off up the stairs.

Éponine goes back into the kitchen, where Combeferre and Courfeyrac are chatting.

"'Ferre, you are an absolute star. Thank you so much."

He smiles warmly. "No worries Ep."

"I'm curious," Courfeyrac cuts in. "When Gavroche asked for chocolate, you checked the time. Why?"

Éponine laughs. " Trust me, you don't want to know." She takes a carton of orange juice from the fridge, and a straw from the adjacent draw, sticking it in the top and drinking straight from the bottle.

Enjolras sees the orange juice and frowns as she enters the bedroom. "You know I hate it when you do that. There are perfectly decent glasses in the cupboard."

Éponine's only response is to blow bubbles through the straw, as she flops onto the bed, which serves to deepen Enjolras's scowl.

"Other people might want to drink from that."

"Given that I'm going to finish it, that's not really a problem."

Enjolras rolls his eyes. "Your addiction to Orange Juice is becoming reasonably worrying. I might have to stage an intervention."

It takes all of Éponine's will power not to throw the open carton at him. Instead, she picks up the book from her bedside table and opens it. The two sit in comfortable silence - the slurp of Orange Juice being the exception - whilst she reads and he writes yet another essay sat at the desk.

The sky is darkening to a deep indigo when a knock at the door makes both of them start. Jean bursts in.

"Ep, you have to help. It's Gavroche."

A million horrifying scenarios fly through Éponine's head, and she desperately tries to calm the panic rising in her chest. Her face drains of colour and she leaps from the bed, rushing from the room. Enjolras follows close behind her.

"HI 'PONINE! Wow! You look pretty! Are you okay? You look sad! I was doing my homework like you said and then Courfeyrac gave me some chocolate and some weird drink called Iron Bru and so then I drew some cats because my homework was really boring. I really like cats! Do you remember that time Joly told everyone he was going to die from a cat allergy? I don't think I have any allergies, do I have any allergies? Oh hi Enj! Do you have any allergies? Do you like cats? I don't like cats. I like dogs. But only little dogs because I'm a little person..."

Gavroche continues, not even seeming to draw breath. Éponine looks up at Courfeyrac who resembles a rabbit caught in headlights. The sight undoes her and she howls with laughter.

"You idiot!" She manages through her mirth, "I didn't think you could get even more stupid! You fed a 10 year old boy chocolate and energy drinks at," she checks the clock, "half past 8?"

"I have to admit, I didn't think it would be this bad. Good luck!" Courfeyrac attempts to leave, but Éponine beats him to the bottom stair.

"You're not going anywhere." Her eyes glint maliciously, and Courfeyrac blanches.

"I don't like that look. You're plotting something evil."

"You bet your sorry ass I am." She grins. "Gav! Come with me!"

He bounds up to her, almost vibrating with unreleased energy.

"Go up to the spare room, I'll come see you in a minute!"

He bolts up the stairs like a bullet from a gun, and she returns her attention to Courfeyrac, who is eyeing her warily. The rest of the room's occupants are focused on the pair, eager to know what Éponine is planning.

"You are going to be locked in there with him, until he has calmed down."

Courfeyrac looks like he might be sick, while the others roar with laughter. Éponine drags him by his arm, and he looks like he is being led to the slaughter.

"Courf! Are you going to come and sit with me? That's so cool! Do you have any allergies? I sneezed when I was cleaning my room once but I think that was just the dust-"

A shutting door cuts off the boy's relentless talking, and Éponine returns to the living room triumphantly.

"Well, we can't really go out tonight. So who's up for drinking here?"

Grantaire's cheer is the loudest, and Enjolras goes to turn on some music as Éponine retrieves a crate of beer from the back door.

* * *

Enjolras lets Courfeyrac out at just past midnight. He walks into the living room, ashen faced and looking slightly spooked and Éponine cannot help but laugh at him.

"Just so you know, it's on the list now, so if you decided a repeat incident could be funny, you will endure the same punishment."

"I reiterate my sentiment from a couple of weeks. _You have no soul._"

Éponine just laughs harder. "Consider it payback for the Joly incident."

* * *

**A/N: Of course it was going to be Courfeyrac that fed him sugar. **


	7. vi

**_6. Setting up Enjolras's auto correct on his computer so that "France" is replaced with "my mistress" in his dissertation on the social and economic divide of the country will result in your Sims 3 disc being hidden for a maximum of 2 months._**

* * *

Enjolras finishes his dissertation and sinks back into the sofa, satisfied. He closes his eyes and enjoys a few moments of blissful silence, before he stands up.

The task takes more effort than he anticipates; muscles stiff from being hunched over the coffee table for so long. Éponine had kicked him out of the bedroom at half past 12, telling him the light from the screen was "_really fucking irritating, some of us actually need sleep to survive_". The clock on his laptop reads 3 in the morning. In all honesty, Enjolras needn't be up. He'd finished his dissertation weeks ago, and since then he had edited and proofread it 4 times over. This particular session was simply to make sure everything was perfect. He'd checked his references for the 12th time, and finally concluded that it was acceptable enough to hand in.

"Enj?"

Éponine's voice makes him jump.

"What are you doing up?"

"I couldn't sleep, because your incessant keyboard tapping was like Chinese water torture, and then I decided wanted a fag. Join me?" She smiles at him, and he returns it fondly.

"Alright. Then can we please go to bed? I'm exhausted."

She gives him a playful shove. "You say that like _I'm_ the one keeping _you_ up!"

He laughs and the two of them wander out into the small back garden, holding hands, whilst Éponine rests her head on his shoulder.

* * *

Grantaire grins as he watches the pair meander outside. Under normal circumstances his brain would have exploded from the cuteness, but he has more important things to worry about. He waits until they are safely out of sight, before he turns and beckons to Feuilly and Bahorel, who are crouching uncomfortably by the stairs.

"We're clear! Let's move!"

The three boys approach the computer with some sense of trepidation. For all they know, it could be programmed to explode if anyone but Enjolras laid a finger on it.

Once they're sitting in front of it, they pause.

"Okay, so we want to do something funny to his dissertation. But what?"

Feuilly stares at Grantaire blankly. " We probably should have thought about this before we attempted the sabotage."

They sit there in silence. The alcohol had made it seem like a good idea at the time, but now Grantaire's head was thick and his thoughts were stagnant.

"I've got it."

Bahorel moves to in front of the screen, and spends a few moments typing. He sits back when he's finished, and allows Grantaire and Feuilly to fully appreciate his work of evil genius.

It takes Grantaire about 30 seconds to realise what Bahorel has done.

"That's absolutely brilliant. I doff my cap to you Sir."

Bahorel nods back, accepting the compliment.

Feuilly lets out a high pitched giggle. "I cannot wait to see his face!"

Movement from the garden attracts their attention. "Shit shit shit shit move! Go go go!"

The three boys race up the stairs just as Enjolras and Éponine step back inside, leaving the laptop innocently where they had found it.

* * *

"Enjolras? May I have a word please?"

Enjolras looks at his professor curiously. " Of course."

"I haven't been able to have a proper look through your dissertation yet," she began carefully. "And I must say I am particularly looking forward to reading it. However," her tone became a lot sterner and Enjolras regards her warily. "I am hoping vehemently that you were not serious when you handed this in."

She returns the paper. Enjolras looks down to see the paper covered in red circles and question marks, and he cringes inwardly_. _Every instance of the word 'France' had been replaced with 'my mistress'. Anger coils in his stomach.

"I can assure you that this was not me. My housemates simply have the maturity levels of 5 year olds."

His professor smiles. "I had assumed that would be the reason. As you are my top student, I will allow you to rectify the mistake and have a new copy on my desk by 6 o clock this evening, no repercussions. I might advise password protecting your laptop from now on, however."

Enjolras nods and thanks her before leaving the lecture theatre, grateful that his otherwise perfect record might just have saved his skin. He seethes quietly. Someone is going to pay dearly when he gets home.

* * *

The front door slams. Éponine starts.

"COURFEYRAC!"

_Oh shit. _

Enjolras was shouting. That was never a good sign.

She hears feet racing down the stairs and promptly exits the bedroom, eager to witness the next few minutes.

Courfeyrac was standing in front of Enjolras, who was glowering at him with a ferocity Éponine rarely saw.

"You think this is funny? You think my dissertation is a joke?"

"Enj, seriously, I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about." Courfeyrac sounds completely bewildered.

"Oh really? Let me remind you." Enjolras thrusts the paper under his nose. Courfeyrac stares at it for a few seconds, before he roars with laughter.

"Enj, I'm flattered that you thought this was me, but alas I can't take credit for another genius's work. "

"Don't fuck around with me Courf, this is serious!"

"I'm being serious, Enj! It genuinely wasn't me."

Éponine approaches the pair to see what all the fuss is about. It doesn't disappoint, and she laughs heartily. The look on Enjolras's face only makes her laugh harder.

"I need to congratulate whoever did this. They deserve a medal."

"Éponine, it isn't funny."

"On the contrary, marble man, it is hysterical. I bet your professor let you off though; she knows who your friends are."

Enjolras's silence is all the conformation she needs, and she returns Courfeyrac's proffered hi-five with enthusiasm.

"What's all the fuss about?" Grantaire appears on the stairs, wearing an oversized old shirt covered in paint, smelling softly of acrylics.

Éponine answers. "Someone fucked with Enj's essay. He's the only one who doesn't find it funny."

Grantaire snorts and Enjolras wheels to face him.

"It was you, wasn't it?"

Grantaire struggles in vain to keep a straight face.

"You little shit!"

"To be fair, I didn't actually do it. It was just my idea."

Enjolras narrows his eyes and glares at Grantaire. Then he storms into the kitchen for a few moments. Bahorel appears and gestures at Enjolras's retreating figure with an eyebrow raised. Grantaire whispers "_he found it_" and the four of them desperately attempt to stifle their laughter. Enjolras returns, staring at them icily, before barging past the boys on the stairs.

"Where are you going?" Grantaire asks, but is only greeted by silence.

Éponine investigates the kitchen to find what Enjolras was doing. Her eyes fall on the piece of paper attached to the fridge, and sure enough, there is a note left in Enjolras's perfect handwriting that wasn't there 5 minutes ago.

"R? You might want to see this."

Grantaire draws level with her, and follows her gaze to the list. His eyes widen in horror, and he whispers "_son of a bitch"_ before turning on his heel.

Enjolras and Grantaire are locked in a furious grapple by the time Éponine walks back into the living room. She suppresses the urge to giggle, when Enjolras wrenches out of Grantaire's grasp with an expert twist of his wrist, and Grantaire can only watch in horror as Enjolras stalks off with his favourite PC game. He sits down on the stairs, pouting with the air of a petulant child.

"This is so _unfair_! I didn't even do it!"

"To be fair, R, it was your idea, and he wrote it on the list before he did it."

"Yeah! By about 10 seconds!" He huffs dejectedly. "I had a really good family going as well."

Enjolras returns from the bedroom. "Now that you're going to be deprived of it for two months, you might actually do some of your essays without me having to tie you to a chair."

Grantaire snorts. "Please Enj, I'm not _that_ desperate."


	8. vii

_**7. Rifling through his underwear drawer and flying his bright red boxers on the TV aerial and shouting "VIVE LA BUTTS!" on the roof at 3 o clock in the morning will result in the deletion of the any Glee episode recorded on the Sky Box. **_

* * *

The music in the club blares in Grantaire's ears as he jumps in time to the beat, Éponine at his side. Courfeyrac is grinding on a girl to his right, and Bahorel left half an hour ago. Jean is at the bar and Combeferre even managed to convince Enjolras to come out with them; the pair are sitting at a table together, laughing loudly.

Éponine grabs his hand and drags him to the bar to grab a drink. Both of them are completely wasted and she almost slips over on the way to the bar, giggling at her instability. She waves at Enjolras, who looks at her reproachfully and as she turns back to face Grantaire, he notices a fond smile cross Enjolras's play over Enjolras's lips.

"Do you want to head back? This place is packed."

Éponine nods and goes to ask the same of Enjolras and Combeferre. Grantaire grabs Jehan and signals to Courfeyrac, who detaches himself grudgingly from his arm candy and the group fight their way through the crowds out into the night.

They make their way haphazardly back to the house. Grantaire and Éponine are leading the party, arms outstretched and pretending to be aeroplanes, staggering around and laughing raucously.

"_Niiaowwww_!" Éponine divebombs into the rest of the group and they scatter around her.

It is only just gone 2 in the morning when they reach the house. Combeferre lets everyone in, and Grantaire and Éponine immediately turn on the music, continuing to dance round the living room, jumping on the sofas and shouting the words tunelessly in between laughs.

Courfeyrac and Jehan join in, playing air guitar. Combeferre turns to Enjolras and shrugs. Enjolras returns the gesture with a skeptical raise of his eyebrows.

"I'm going to need a lot more to drink before I reach that level."

Combeferre grins. "Challenge accepted Enj. I guarantee you'll be singing along to Bohemian Rhapsody within the hour."

Combeferre stays true to his word, and by 3 o clock the entire group is belting out the melodies of Freddy Mercury as though they are on stage in front of an audience of 3000.

Enjolras feels someone grabs his wrist in the middle of a particularly impressive solo, and looks down from the coffee table to see Éponine smiling at him, eyes glinting mischieviously. He allows her to drag him off the table towards the door, followed by wolf whistling from Courfeyrac, and into the outside chill. It is only once they are safely away from everyone's suggestive glances and prying eyes, she pushes him up against the brick of the side of the house,

Her lips find his through the haze of alcohol and he returns the kiss hungrily. He runs his fingers through her hair, pulling her closer. Her hands bunch on the front of his shirt and a small moan spills from his mouth as she bites his bottom lip. The drink only serves to fuel them further as he kisses down her exposed collar bone, but they jump apart when they hear a noise from almost directly above them.

They look up to find Grantaire scaling the roof, precariously clambering over the tiles.

"R, what the fuck are you doing?" Éponine is laughing uncontrollably, but Enjolras sobers up almost instantly, very uncomfortable with watching Grantaire manoeuvre towards the centre of the roof. Éponine walks round to the front of the house to get a better view, and Enjolras follows, eyes fixed on the raven haired boy above them. The rest of the boys burst out the front door, egging him on.

"Seriously, what the fuck is Grantaire doing on the roof?" Enjolras's voice is lost amongst the cheers.

Finally, Grantaire makes it to the middle, and raises his arms in celebration, a small bundle of cloth clutched in his hand.

The group huddled together on the grass below erupts into cheers and whoops, until Enjolras shouts. "Hold on a second, those are my fucking boxers!"

Everyone roars with laughter, and Grantaire struggles to hang the pants over the television aerial.

"R, what the fuck! They're my favourite pair!"

"I bet they're Ep's favourite pair too!" teases Courfeyrac, and the rest of the group let out a collective "ooohhhhhhhhhhh!", before they collapse with renewed mirth.

Grantaire steps back from the aerial, admiring his handiwork. The wind catches the underwear and they billow out, creating a bright red flag of immaturity for the whole street to treasure.

The congregation applauds as Grantaire takes a bow, almost losing his balance. Éponine is cheering the hardest, but Enjolras glares up at Grantaire, trying desperately to appear menacing under the influence. His attempt fails spectacularly and Grantaire throws a fist in the air.

"VIVE LA BUTTS!" He bellows, and the boys below mirror his movements and echo his sentiment.

"TAKE MY BEST BOXERS OFF OF THE TV AERIAL YOU SON OF A BITCH!"

"LA LA LA I CAN'T HEAR YOU OVER THE SOUND OF MY PATRIOTISM!" Grantaire turns to face the aerial and brings his hand up into a firm salute.

"_Allons enfants de la Patrie, le jour de gloire est arrivé!" _As he begins to sing the anthem, the gathering below pay homage and join him.

"GRANTAIRE IF YOU DON'T COME DOWN FROM THE ROOF NOW I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL DELETE ALL OF THE GLEE OFF THE SKY BOX!"

Grantaire's response is to sing louder and everyone except Enjolras raises their volume as well.

"_Contre nous de la tyrannie, l'étendard sanglant est levé, l'étendard sanglant est levé!_"

The sounds of the National Anthem and his friends' merriment follow Enjolras inside the house.

* * *

"Euuuuuugggh, _fuck me._" Grantaire's head is pounding when he wakes in the morning.

He rolls off of his bed and staggers down the stairs. Éponine is already in the kitchen, drinking deeply from a large mug of coffee.

"Bacon. Feed me bacon." He croaks. Éponine laughs and gets out the frying pan.

Grantaire shuffles into the living room and flops on to the TV. He needs mindless entertainment to ease his brain into the day.

He flicks through the recorded programmes, and freezes.

"Éponine," he calls to the kitchen, cautiously. "Where has all the Glee gone?"

Éponine snorts. "Do you honestly not remember last night at all?"

Grantaire sits and thinks for a minute. "No." He replies shortly.

"That's a shame." Éponine puts the plate of meat on his lap. "Allow me to reenlighten you."

She wanders back into the kitchen and reads off of the fridge.

Grantaire cackles. "I am a fucking genius."

"They were my favourite boxers you prick!" Enjolras's voice comes muffled through the bedroom door. "You owe me a new pair!"

"Whatever, I don't even care that Glee's gone, it was fucking worth it."

"You know they're still attached to the aerial, R?"

"Even better."


	9. viii

**A/N: I am so sorry for the massive update gap! I've been horrendously busy with rehearsals and shows all week and I've been rushed off my feet.**

**Then My Chemical Romance split up and I didn't actually have the heart to write anything at all.**

**I should be back on track with my daily or every other day updates as of today. :)**

**This chapter again, is dedicated to Chloes-Cheese, because she made me graphics and I love her for it. **

**I have been absolutely blown away by the response to this fic. I love you all dearly, thank you so much for reading. As always, your reviews are hugely appreciated and I adore every one. :)**

**If anyone is interested in any of my head canons, please come and ask me on my Tumblr.**

**Also if you have any requests for drabbles, please feel free to ask me on Tumblr as well. :)**

* * *

_**9. Courfeyrac's fortnightly Musical evening must not be disturbed, under pain of death. Or being subject to his drunken rendition of Fly, Fly Away from Catch Me If You Can. **_

* * *

Courfeyrac frowns at the notes on the page in front of him. Apart from a few brief sentences about The Iliad and Oedipus Rex, the paper is blank. He tries desperately to focus on his lecturer, but the man's voice is all but sending Courfeyrac to sleep. He forces his eyes open and grabs his wrist with the nails of his other hand in a last ditched attempt to pay attention, but apparently the lecture is over anyway, and Courfeyrac gets up gratefully and hurries from the room. He checks his timetable quickly and sighs with relief. Done for the day. Tonight is his night to curl up in bed and watch Broadway Shows until the early hours of the morning.

He walks out of the building and into torrential rain. The water comes down in sheets and Courfeyrac is drenched in seconds.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" He shouts at no one in particular.

After sprinting all the way through campus, he finally makes it to the Musain. Musichetta looks up from the counter and her eyes widen in alarm.

"Jenna! Make Courf his usual!" She calls to the girl by the machines.

Courfeyrac tries to stop her, turning out his empty pockets to prove his poverty.

Chetta shakes her head. "On the house sugar, you look like you need it."

He smiles at her gratefully and waits patiently for his coffee pulling out his phone to text Combeferre.

**Dude, you free? I could seriously use a lift home right now. **

The reply comes quickly.

**Sorry, still in lectures. Enj somehow managed to worm his way into my Religion in Politics module. I think the lecturer might cry in a minute.**

Courfeyrac smirks. He looks up at someone clearing their throat and accepts his coffee from Jenna with a smile.

He takes a long drink and a deep breath before stepping back out into the storm.

Within 10 seconds of leaving, Courfeyrac has already lost his coffee to a businessman who refused to look where he was going and crashed into him coming round the corner, sending the cup flying into the pavement, and covering Courfeyrac in its contents.

He grimaces and forces himself to carry on through the downpour, only to be completely soaked by a car that insists on driving through the horrendously muddy puddle 3 inches from the curb.

Courfeyrac sighs. He could really use A Chorus Line right about now. He doesn't even bother running now, and trudges moodily for the last half a mile to the house.

Éponine looks up from her laptop as he walks inside. Her first instinct is to giggle, but she suppresses it when she notices the resigned look on his face.

"Bad day?" She asks sympathetically.

"You have no idea. I'm going for a shower."

Courfeyrac winces as he listens to his shoes squelch as he traipses up the stairs.

The hot water runs over his skin and Courfeyrac swears he's in heaven. After he finishes he hastily shoves his filthy clothes right to the bottom of the wash basket. Courfeyrac doesn't have the energy to wash them now, but if Joly found them at the top he would have a fit and subject the entire house to one of his speeches on the optimum environment for breeding harmful bacteria.

Finally, after what seems like 50 years, he clambers into bed, wrapping himself in every blanket he can find, and turns on his laptop.

He decides that tonight, he wants to start with something familiar, and so he leans back as the discordant opening notes of No One Mourns The Wicked sound out of his speakers.

* * *

Less than 10 minutes after Courfeyrac has disappeared upstairs, Combeferre and Enjolras burst in through the front door, both of them laughing.

"Did you see her face after you tore down her argument about the anti abortion ministers?"

"Well no actually, because if you remember that was when I stormed out."

Éponine snorts. "Enj, seriously, is it actually possible for you to sit through a lecture without destroying the trained professional?"

He looks at her. "Trained she might have been Éponine, but professional she certainly wasn't."

Combeferre cackles. "You are cruel, Enj."

"'Ferre, she looked younger than me!"

"Okay admittedly she looked about 12, but that doesn't mean you have to reduce her to tears!"

Éponine looks at Enjolras incredulously. " You made her cry? Oh my god Enj you really have no filter at all."  
He rolls his eyes. "She was so wrong it was actually painful to listen to. I don't think I'll be going back. Who wants pasta?" He calls over his shoulder as he wanders into the kitchen.

"That sounds wonderful." Éponine's stomach grumbles as she realises she hasn't eaten since 9 that morning. "Who is in? I'll call them down."

Combeferre pauses to think, counting off occupants on his fingers. "Everyone except Marius, Feuilly and Joly. Marius is at Cosette's and Feuilly and Joly are still in labs."

Éponine goes to the bottom of the stairs. "PASTA IN 10 GUYS!" She hears the rumble of feet and stands well back as a rabble of hungry males comes barrelling down the stairs. As they go to the dining room she notices that both Grantaire and Courfeyrac are missing.

"I'm just going to go and check on R and Courf," she calls to Combeferre behind her. He nods and she disappears upstairs.

Éponine knocks softly on Grantaire's door. "R? Enj is cooking some pasta, do you want any?" She waits for a moment, but there is no response, so she pushes it open to find him glued to his sketchbook, brow furrowed in concentration with smudges of charcoal on his nose where he has pinched it in frustration. She smiles fondly at him from the doorway.

"Taire?"

He jumps. "Jesus Ep."

"What are you drawing?"

He turns the sketchbook round to reveal a beautiful portrait of her. Éponine's breath catches in her throat and she smiles.

"Wow. R, that's amazing. You're going to get bored of drawing me one day you know."

He returns the grin. "Not possible. Between you, Jehan and Enj, I have all the muses I could ever possibly need."

Their conversation is interrupted by a shout from Courfeyrac's room. Éponine sprints up the hall and bursts in just as he yells "let the green girl go!"

"Shit Courf, are you okay?"

Éponine is met by an icy pair of eyes glaring up from a nest of blankets on the bed.

"You walked in on the best part!"

"You yelled really loudly, I thought you were hurt!"

"I was speaking along with the play!"

Éponine rolls her eyes. "You are actually unbelievable Courf. Oh! Enj is cooking pasta, do you want any?"

"Yes but not now, I'm in the middle of something important."

"Courf you are watching a musical that you can recite word for word"

He glowers at her. "Even you like Wicked Ep!"

"Okay, admittedly, Wicked is amazing, but that's beside the point. Food will be on the table in 10 minutes."

Éponine wanders back to Grantaire's room; he is already re-engrossed in his sketchbook.

"R? There's gonna be food in 10 minutes if you want some."

He jumps to his feet. "Éponine Thenardier you're my favourite person in the whole world."

She grins. " Enj is the one cooking."

"Yeah but if I tried to tell him that he was my favourite person in the whole world, he'd try and have me put in an asylum."

The two make their way back down to the dining room, to the wonderful smell of Enjolras's cooking. When the food arrives, the room falls totally silent as the students devour every morsel put in front of them. Éponine almost laughs when as she watches. She has absolutely no idea how they would have survived with out Enjolras's glorious culinary skills.

The drink comes out not long after. A large game of beer pong is set up with the one condition that winner stays on.

Feuilly and Joly get back just as Grantaire wins his third match.

"Gavroche! Do not even think about touching the booze!"

Gavroche begins to whine and retracts his hand, but Éponine cuts him off.

"You get to stay only if you are sensible. If you start abusing your freedom you forfeit all rights to watch."

He pouts and folds his arms grudgingly.

"Look on the bright side, you've only got 6 years to go until I'll let you join in!"

He scowls and sticks his tongue out as Éponine laughs.

"Ep, step up to the table please!"

She looks round. Bahorel had finished his glasses, and was lying on the floor groaning slightly. Grantaire was gesturing to the empty end of the table, where a new set of cups has been put. Éponine grins maliciously.

"You are going down, pretty boy."

He winks back at her. "I wouldn't count on it."

10 minutes later, each side only has one cup left. The tension in the atmosphere is tangible and silence falls as Grantaire lines up for his shot.

The ball bounces off the rim of the cup and the group releases a collective breath. Éponine picks up the ball and measures up.

Jehan whispers "good luck" and Combeferre touches her shoulder supportively. She takes a deep breath in and throws.

The ball lands squarely in Grantaire's drink and the group explodes into celebration. Éponine is smothered in hugs and the cheers continue.

Enjolras stands from the back of the room, eyes twinkling. "I believe it is common practice to bow to your superior at the end of a match."

Grantaire bows reluctantly. Éponine pushes the last drink to his end of the table.

Bahorel, now recovered, starts the chant. "We like to drink with Grantaire, 'cause Grantaire is our mate!"

The rest of the group join in. "And when we drink with Grantaire, he gets it down in 8!"

"7!" Grantaire picks up the cup.

"6! 5! 4! 3!"

"FUCKING SHUT UP!"

Grantaire chokes on the remaining dregs of the liquid and retreats into a corner, coughing. Courfeyrac is standing at the door, fuming.

"I have had the worst fucking day imaginable! So all I want to do is come home and watch Wicked and Rent without being disturbed, but you drunken idiots are shouting so loudly I can hear you over my headphones! Can you please just let me have one night where I'm not interrupted?"

The room looks at Courfeyrac in silence.

"I'm taking a bottle of rum, and I'm going back upstairs. _Please _try and keep the noise down." He stalks away and the rest of the group watch him with open mouths.

"Do you think there's a condition whose symptoms are over obsession with Broadway Musicals?" Feuilly asks quietly.

Éponine snorts. "I'm going to get some orange juice." She stops short of the fridge, noticing a new addition to the list, and what looks like a hastily added afterthought.

"Guys! Be as loud as you possibly can! I have someone's bluff to call!"

* * *

Courfeyrac almost screams in frustration as Goodbye Love is drowned out by raucous laughter. With a belly full of rum, he snatches up his iPod from his bedside table and stomps downstairs.

"That is IT!" He shouts. "Everyone sit the fuck down in here, and shut the fuck up!"

Their shock at his explosion means they obey without question, and they all file into the living room, squishing on the sofa and leaning against the coffee table.

He presses play and as he begins to sing, their jaws drop.

_"When I was a child, my eyes were clear, I saw the good side..."_

Éponine and Grantaire exchange looks of disbelief, and Enjolras's eyebrows are almost invisible underneath his golden curls.

_"So now I wanna see him fly, fly, I'll be your alibi, my baby, fly, fly, fly away..."_

The song continues and all the faces in front of him become masks of awe and wonder, and Courfeyrac tries not to blush.

As he finishes, the room falls into hushed silence. Jehan is staring at his lap, scarlet in the face and biting his lip whilst fiddling with the end of his plait. Courfeyrac's breath catches as he takes in the other boy's reaction.

"Jesus Christ Courf, where did that come from?" Éponine sounds genuinely shocked, and Courfeyrac drags his attention away from Jehan.

He smiles sweetly. "All I ask is that I can enjoy my musicals once every two weeks. You guys can surely pipe down for one evening. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a bootleg recording of the Phantom of the Opera to watch."

* * *

**A/N: LONG CHAPTER IS LONG.**

**I BRING YOU SUBTLE COURFEYRAC/JEHAN. I ship it so hard. There's going to be so much C/J fluff next chapter, so prepare yourselves.**


	10. ix

**A/N: This chapter is dedicated to the wonderful Julie (**_**fyeponinexenjolras**_** on tumblr) who practically shouted at me to put Courfeyrac/Jehan in.**

**For clarification (I will be putting a post on Tumblr about her in the not too distant future), Musichetta runs a really popular cafe just off of campus. She knows everything about all the barricade boys (and Ep) because they all go to her for advice if they need it. She is one badass lady. **

* * *

_**9. You may only join him if you agree to duet with him for What is this Feeling? from Wicked.**_

* * *

Jehan sighs quietly as he adds a small flower to the end of his plait, wishing he was less of a coward. Since Courfeyrac's performance a couple of weeks ago, he has thought of little else. The memory of the way he belted out the bridge makes Jehan's stomach flip and he groans miserably, eliciting angry stares from the librarian. Jehan gathers up his things and mutters an apology as he hurries out. He needs a chai latte, now.

Musichetta looks up from the counter as he wanders in.

"Mon petit poète_, _what on earth has got you looking so miserable?"

Jehan slumps in front of her. "Men."

"Sweetie, it's not still Courf is it?" He nods solemnly and she tuts sympathetically.

"I don't know what to do Chetta."

"If you don't want to just take a deep breath and do it, why don't you try wooing him a little?"

He looks up. "Do you really think that will work?"

She smiles and nods. "For starters, try taking him a cappuccino for after one of his lectures. Ask to hang out and watch shitty TV with him tomorrow."

"Chetta I don't know what I'd do without you." Jehan fishes in his satchel for change, but Chetta just shakes her head.

"No charge. For the cappuccino or the chai latte I've already got Jenna to make."

"Chetta are you sure? If you keep giving us free drinks you're going to go out of business."

She laughs. "Poète_, _you boys are my best customers. Besides, it's about time something happened with the two of you."

Jehan accepts the drinks gratefully and leaves the café with a fresh smile on his face.

He waits outside the lecture theatre anxiously, waiting for the students to file out. When they finally do, he almost misses Courfreyrac in the sea of bodies.

"Courf!"

The boy turns around and breaks into a wide smile when he sees Jehan, who swears his heart stops.

"Hey Jehan. You thirsty by any chance?" He gestures to the two cups.

"Oh! One of these is for you. Compliments of Chetta."

Courfeyrac takes the proffered cup as though he is being handed liquid gold.

"Jehan, you are a god amongst men."

Jehan blushes furiously. "I didn't make the coffee."

Courfeyrac shrugs. "Walk with me to my next lecture?"

Jehan almost jumps upright. "Okay."

The two boys wander shoulder to shoulder through the maze of buildings. Éponine passes them, clearly in a hurry, but Jehan still notices the twinkle in her eyes and the small smile that crosses her face.

"I'll see you later?" Jehan starts. It's a question directed at him.

"Yeah, sure." He waits for Courfeyrac to completely disappear before he squeals noiselessly and claps his hands in celebration. He half runs all the way back to the house, making a mental note to write Chetta the most beautiful poem he possibly could.

When Courfeyrac finally gets home, Jehan is engrossed in a poem and doesn't hear the other boy until there is a soft knock on his open door. He jumps a foot in the air.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I just wanted to come and say thank you for the coffee again. It was really nice of you."

Jehan beams. "It was no trouble. I know how much you hate your Greek Literature lectures."

Silence stretches between them. Jehan takes a deep breath. "Doyouwanttohangouttomorrowev eningandwatchshittyTVtogethe r?"

Courfeyrac frowns. "Pardon?"

Jehan blushes again. "Do you want to hang out tomorrow evening and watch shitty TV together?"

"Normally I would love to, but tomorrow is Musical night, and I finally found a decent bootleg of Hairspray to watch. Maybe some other time?"

"Yeah, maybe." Jehan tries to keep the disappointment out of his voice, and his gaze drops back to the paper in front of him.

By the next morning, Jehan has a plan. He walks quickly from his lectures into town and buys a copy of the Collector's Edition of Chicago, then he goes straight to the Musain.

Chetta goes to make his latte as soon as he walks in, but he makes a slashing movement with his hand and walks over to her.

"I need a massive favour."

"That sounds ominous." She chuckles.

"Will you be able to make me coffee at half 7 this evening?"

"For you, poète, anything. Why do you want coffee from me so late? Surely by then you'll just grab a cup of Éponine's?"

Jehan smiles shyly. "Courf doesn't like Éponine's coffee."

"Ah." Chetta returns the smile. "I'll be ready."

* * *

Courfeyrac almost punches the wall when the knock on the door comes halfway through Ladies Choice. He rolls his eyes and takes a slow calming breath before answering.

Jehan cowers under his glare. "Don't hurt me! I brought a peace offering!" He holds up a large takeaway coffee and a collector's edition of Chicago. Courfeyrac is completely taken aback, and blinks a few times to make sure he's not dreaming.

"Thanks." He says, taking the gifts from Jehan, setting them down on his desk. "So, er, I'll see you at dinner?"

"Yeah. Hope you enjoy the coffee."

Courfeyrac shuts the door and throws his hands up in frustration at his inability to interact properly with the one boy he fancies. On the other side of the wood, Jehan mirrors his actions.

* * *

3 days later, Jehan notices an extra note underneath Courfeyrac's last addition. He grins, and then his smile disappears as he panics.

He walks over to Éponine and Enjolras's bedroom and bangs on the door.

"Ep, I need your help!"

Enjolras opens the door, brow furrowed with worry. "Are you okay Jehan?"

"Yes, fine, I mean, no not really, but it's not an emergency. Where's Éponine?"

Enjolras relaxes. "She's doing a sitting for R. They're in his room."

Jehan grins. "Thanks Enj."

He rushes up the stairs, but knocks on Grantaire's door with a little less urgency.

"Ep?"

He pushes inside. Éponine is lounged against Grantaire's wall, draped in a silk sheet. She looks absolutely incredible and Jehan momentarily forgets why he's there.

"Ep, I need your help."

She goes to speak and Grantaire interjects without looking up from his canvas.

"Don't open your mouth. I'm painting your face now."

She makes a tiny movement with her hand, encouraging Jehan to go on.

"You need to help me rehearse What Is This Feeling. Courf put up another note on the fridge and I have to duet it with him if I want to sit in on Musical night."

Her face stays impassive under Grantaire's orders, but her eyes light up with excitement.

"Come and see me when you're done, I'll be dancing round my room to Laura Marling." Jehan skips off, twirling happily up the second flight of stairs to his bedroom.

* * *

Éponine and Jehan rehearse the song over and over again, counting down the days until Courfeyrac's next musical evening. Jehan's voice grows more confident by the day, and even Enjolras, who objects strongly on the grounds that both of them have exams to revise for, is visibly impressed.

"I just think you're taking this a little too seriously. "

"Oh shut up Enj, I've been waiting for Courf and Jehan to get together for almost 3 years now. We can't take this seriously enough." She turns her attention back to Jehan, who has just finished the song. "You've got an incredible set of pipes on you!" Éponine says.

Jehan grins. "If this doesn't grab his attention, I think I'll just give up."

"Trust me love, it will."

* * *

Courfeyrac trudges home in a foul mood. Jehan has barely spoken to him since his royal fuck up two weeks ago, and he is falling his Archaeology module. At least tonight, he has The Jersey Boys to look forward to.

He slams the front door and makes to stomp up the stairs, but Éponine blocks his path.

"You aren't going anywhere sunshine. There's someone that wants to talk to you first."

Courfeyrac raises an eyebrow.

"Just turn around you idiot!"

He does, and all complaints that were forming on his lips die instantly. Jehan is standing with an iPod in his hand and a small smile on his face.

The others wander in from the dining room and kitchen and watch intently.

"You ready?" Jehan asks. Courfeyrac nods, knowing exactly what is coming. He puts his bag down and waits for a moment until the track starts.

"_Dearest darling Momsy and Popsicle."_

_"My dear father."_

_"There's been some confusion over rooming here at Shiz"_

_"But of course I'll care for Nessa,"_

_"But of course, I'll rise above it,"_

Courfeyrac can't help but grin. Jehan is really giving it some, and it takes all his willpower not to burst out laughing when he turns to Courfeyrac and practically spits the word "blonde" at him.

The song goes into full swing and the two boys throw themselves into the performance. Cheers come from the small audience, and Jehan is encouraged even further.

Éponine and, surprisingly, Combeferre, join in with the Chorus's lines. Courfeyrac can't stop smiling now.

_"Loathing truly deeply, loathing you, my whole life long!"_

_"BOO!"_

Courfeyrac screams in response and the room erupts with applause. Jehan takes a flamboyant bow and Courfeyrac follows suit.

Jehan turns to Courfeyrac. "Was that acceptable?"

He grins. "It was phenomenal. Come on, we've got the Jersey Boys to watch."

Courfeyrac pulls a beaming Jehan by the sleeve up the stairs.

They settle down in the nest of blankets, and if Jehan notices Courfeyrac snuggling closer to him than was necessary, he doesn't say anything.

As the play reaches the interval, Courfeyrac turns his head and looks at Jehan, inches from his face.

"What do you think?"

"I love it. It's amazing."

Jehan meets his gaze and before Courfeyrac can draw breath, Jehan's lips are on his and his world has been flipped upside down and fireworks explode in his head.

The moment passes all too quickly as Jehan pulls away and almost trips up trying to rush to the door, mumbling apologies and making a hasty exit. It takes Courfeyrac all of 3 seconds to snap out of his reverie and jump to his feet.

"Jehan!"

He bursts out of the door and grabs Jehan's wrist halfway down the stairs.

"Jehan, wait!"

The other boy turns to face him and Courfeyrac kisses him before there is any chance of protest.

He can hear Éponine whooping from the living room and some of the others cat calling but he really couldn't care less. He runs his hand down Jehan's plait and smiles. This was more perfect than he ever could have imagined.

Eventually his need for oxygen means he has to surface. Jehan is wearing a similar grin and Courfeyrac is vaguely aware of money changing hands downstairs.

"Let's go," he murmurs. "We've still got the second half to watch."


	11. x

**A/N: This chapter is dedicated to Sasha Snape, who has not only been looking forward to it for absolutely ages, but she has been absolutely wonderful and so helpful and incredibly sweet and I cannot praise or thank her enough.**

* * *

_**10. Greeting Bahorel's date in the morning with "Nice to meet you, you're prettier than the last one." is not funny and you run the risk of castration if you attempt it.**_

* * *

"Oh my fucking god." Éponine groans as she stirs under the covers. Her head is pounding and each crack of light that spills through the sheets is like a miniature explosion behind her eyes. "_Owwwwwww,_" she whines and throws her arm over her face. "I am never drinking again."

"Ep, you express that sentiment every time you have a hangover." Enjolras's mumble comes from the bed next to her, voice thick with sleep.

Éponine cracks one eye open and squints at him. He seems to be in a very similar state to her; his curls are dishevelled, sticking up defiantly and he is frowning slightly with what she assumes is the throbbing of a headache.

"You don't seem to be faring much better."

He replies without opening his eyes. "Shhhhhh. It's only about half past 8. It's still socially acceptable to be asleep for at least another 3 hours."

Éponine rolls over to check her phone, desperately trying to ignore the way the room spins around her. The clock reads 08:29. Enjolras's uncanny ability to guess the time of day never fails to astound her.

She collapses onto her back and groans again as a wave of nausea hits her. "Euuuuugh. I feel like death."

Enjolras grumbles from next to her. "So do I. Remind me why I let R convince me to do Jagerbombs with him?"

Éponine laughs, then winces as it passes through her head as waves of intense pain. "He is very insistent."

There is a pause. "I am still shocked the marble man is so affected by alcohol. I always thought it would just pass straight through you."

"Shut up." He attempts to give her a shove but with his eyes still closed his arm meets thin air.

Éponine giggles, and shuffles towards Enjolras. He lifts up his arm when he notices the movement; she positions herself underneath it and he lets it flop down onto her back. His fingers run through the ends of her hair fondly, stroking the lavish curls with a tenderness that only Éponine was ever privy to. Enjolras sighs contentedly. Éponine cranes her neck slightly, to look at his face. The corners of his mouth are curved into a small smile, and his face is completely devoid of stress and worry. Something in her chest catches as she looks at him so utterly relaxed.

She moves so her lips are level with Enjolras's, and kisses him gently. He smiles softly, and finally opens his eyes. They gaze at other, inches apart. The gap closes as they kiss again. It becomes more heated and fervent as the seconds drag on; the dregs of sleep evaporating as hands run over bare skin. Enjolras wraps his arms around Éponine and pulls her on top of him. She kisses him hungrily until the movement sends more sickness rolling over her and she gags, hastily retreating to her earlier position on the bed.

Enjolras is breathing heavily next to her. "I fucking hate your hangovers."

Éponine laughs. When the sensation passes, she sits up. "I'm going to make some coffee."

"Éponine, you are a goddess."

She throws on some lounge pants and a tank top, as Enjolras watches from the bed.

"You're beautiful, Épona."

Éponine blushes furiously at the sentiment and the name he uses for her on very rare occasions, and smiles at him quietly before she ducks out into the living room. She winces at the bright light pouring in through the open window, and silently curses the person that forgot to close them.

When she wanders into the kitchen, there is an unfamiliar girl wearing an oversized shirt standing in the middle of the floor, waiting for the kettle to boil.

"Erm, hi. I'm Éponine."

The girl turns and grins back, talking loudly. "Hi, I'm Sophia. Oh god, _sorry._" She lowers her voice substantially as she watches Éponine cringe at the noise. "Rough night all round I think."

Éponine nods in agreement. A silence falls between them. "So... this is going to sound really rude, but-"

Sophia laughs and cuts across her. "Bahorel."

"Oh, okay. Would you like some coffee?"

"I was making some." Sophia gestures to the kettle.

Éponine smiles. "Yes, but would you like some _decent _coffee?

Sophia grins back. "You are a saint."

"Go sit yourself down in the living room, I'll bring it in for you, and Bahorel if he manages to make it downstairs."

Éponine watches the other girl wander out of the kitchen. She decides she likes her a lot.

"Woah. Who scored _her_ last night?"

Éponine turns to see a tousled Grantaire wander into the room, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

"Seriously? That's how you're saying good morning? I'm actually surprised you're up. It's before midday."

Grantaire rolls his eyes but otherwise ignores her. "But really, Ep. Who is she?" He turns his head subtly and eyes her up through the doorframe.

Éponine kicks him hard in the shin.

"OW! What was that for?"

"If you _must _know, she's Bahorel's date from last night. Her name is Sophia."

Grantaire goes back to staring at her.

"Grantaire!" She hisses.

He turns to her and gives her a look which plainly says _what? she's hot and you know it, _and turns away again.

Éponine lets out a whispered noise of frustration, and turns back to the coffee machine, busying herself for a few minutes.

"At least she's not like that one he brought home last week, she was batshit crazy."

"_OH MY FUCKING GOD SHUT UP 'TAIRE_!" Éponine growls at him through gritted teeth.

"What? Even you have to admit she was insane!"

Éponine has no response. The girl had been completely off the wall, and everyone including Bahorel, had been glad to see her leave. She resorts instead to glowering at her best friend. When that has no effect, she returns to the coffee and ignores him.

When it is ready, she takes a steaming mug into the living room to find Bahorel has joined Sophie on the couch, and they are cuddling and talking animatedly. She sets the cup down on the coffee table and goes back to get another one for Bahorel. As she returns to the kitchen to get drinks for her and Enjolras, she gives Grantaire a warning glare.

"Play nicely." She says under her breath.

She gives Sophia a warm smile as she crosses to her bedroom. When she walks in, Enjolras has sat up and is already engrossed in a textbook.

"You can take the boy out of the classroom, but you can't take the classroom out of the boy."

He looks up and smiles. She sets the coffee down and climbs back into bed,

Just as she is getting settled, she hears Grantaire through the door.

"Nice to meet you, you're prettier than the last one."

"That little shit." She stalks out into the living room and sees both Bahorel and Sophia sitting in stunned silence.

"Grantaire I swear to fucking God..." Éponine doesn't finish her sentence before she strides into the kitchen and grabs a large, menacing knife from the worktop. She brandishes it at Grantaire and his eyes widen in horror.

"I am going to chop your fucking balls off."

Grantaire lets out a small squeak and dives for cover. As she chases him around the room, she hears Bahorel placate a worried looking Sophia.

"They're best mates, this happens a lot."

"Apologise or wave goodbye to your testicles."

"I'm sorry Sophia! You're wonderful!"

"Now go and kiss her hand like a proper gentleman."

Grantaire scurries over to her, and Sophia laughs loudly as he brushes her knuckles with his lips.

"Thank you."

Éponine goes and replaces the knife, and Grantaire falls to the carpet in relief, clutching his groin protectively.

"Everyone! I have an important announcment to make!"

Everyone in the room turns to look at Joly, who was wandering solemnly down the stairs with an incredibly grave look on his face.

"I have developed a severe allergic reaction to the glue used to hold books together, and I will not last until midweek."

"What a dreadful catastrophe that would be. Éponine what on earth have you done to Grantaire?" Enjolras has emerged from the bedroom and has stopped to take in Grantaire's cowering form.

"It looks like she broke him by threatening to remove his genitalia. " Jehan floats down the stairs. "I think I might write a haiku about it."

"You should add this particular occurence to the list, Ep. I feel like Grantaire might need fair warning next time." Combeferre follows Jehan down the stairs.

Sophia looks perplexed. "There's a list? Of what?"

"Les Amis de l'ABC House Rules." states Enjolras proudly.

Sophia cackles. "Bahorel, you're lucky l really like you. I didn't quite realise quite what I was getting myself into when I agreed to come back to your place."

"_AND THAT'S HOW WE'LL BEGIN: THE WIZARD AND I!_"

Courfeyrac's voice drifts downstairs, and Éponine snorts. "No, I don't think you did."


	12. xi

**A/N: Holy crap, I can't believe how popular this has got! Thank you so much to every single one of you!**  
**I am sorry that this chapter doesn't have much E/É but I've had it planned out for ages and Grantaire/Éponine friendship is one of my favourite things ever.**

* * *

_**11. Anyone that takes Grantaire and Éponine's Ben and Jerry's without permission must replace it within 24 hours, or interest in way of extra tubs will accumulate at a rate of two Chocolate Fudge Brownie's a day for the first three days, and then a Cookie dough added to that for every subsequent day.**_

* * *

"I swear Tarantino believes that the human body is made of just skin and blood." Grantaire remarks as Uma Thurman slaughters countless ninjas on the screen of his TV.

Éponine blows a lazy smoke ring across the room, wrapping her edge of the blanket more tightly around herself. "I would agree. He's also clearly having an affair with the dramatic close up."

Grantaire laughs and takes a long drag on his cigarette. He snuggles slightly closer to Éponine and she leans her head on his shoulder.

"I want a katana." Éponine states as the top of Lucy Liu's scalp is sliced off.

Grantaire snorts. "What would you do with a katana?"

"It would make threatening you a lot easier."

Grantaire blows smoke in her face as a response and she scowls at him. Grantaire laughs again.

Éponine lights another cigarette as the credits roll. "R, can I have a look at your sketchbook? I haven't seen it in a couple of weeks."

He retrieves it and and hands it to her while he puts the DVD away. When he returns to the bed, she is engrossed in the pages, skimming the paper with her fingers, pride shining softly in her eyes.

"These are absolutely stunning, 'Taire."

He smiles warmly. "Thanks Ep."

Éponine looks up at him. "So, I've been stupidly busy this week. Catch me up. What have you been doing?"

"This, mostly." He gestures to the drawings of the University buildings in front of her. "That and writing my comparative essay." He scowls in displeasure. "Your bloody boyfriend has been making sure of that."

Éponine giggles. "To be fair R, without Enj's help you'd probably have been kicked out by now."

"This is true. I've been reading Good Omens as well."

"Fucking finally! I told you it was good!"

"It's fucking hysterical. Although I now realise why you go on about Aziraphale so much. You two could geek out over old books for the rest of forever."

Éponine shoves Grantaire playfully. "Shut up."

"So what have you been up to which has cruelly kept you from our Quentin marathon?"

She frowns. "Revision. I really, _really _hate Medieval Britain. That and I've got an essay on the impact of the monarchy on the rest of the country, which of course Enj is absolutely relishing. Anyone would think he was a kid on Christmas day."

Grantaire snorts, then changes the subject abruptly. "Have you told him you're in love with him yet?"

She glowers at him. "Why are you so damn insistent about this?"

"Because it's so glaringly obvious that he feels the same way."

Éponine rolls her eyes, bringing the cigarette to her lips and turning away from Grantaire "I might be in love with him, but I'm still not going to tell him. "

"Eugh. You're so fucking stubborn Ep."

"And don't you forget it, pretty boy."

Grantaire shuffles up to her and wraps her in a hug. "I think it's time for Ben and Jerry's."

She turns back to him, grinning. "I couldn't agree more."

Grantaire kisses her hair and clambers off of the bed.

He returns half a minute later, empty handed. Éponine looks at him, affronted.

"And where exactly is the ice cream?"

"There wasn't any in there."

Her eyes widen. "Excuse you, I bought 3 tubs on Wednesday on my way home from work."

"No, really." Grantaire looks at her, horrified. "There isn't any in there. Someone's eaten our stash."

"Well that's just fucking rude isn't it?"

"Yes. So what do we do?"

Éponine pauses for a moment. "Let's write it on the list, and charge interest if it's not replaced by tomorrow."

Grantaire grins. "That's genius, Ep. I have a feeling we're going to get a lot of free ice cream out of this."

The next day, halfway through Kill Bill Volume II, Grantaire decides to go and check the freezer for their replacement ice cream from the guilty thief. To his disappointment, there is a distinct lack of frozen dessert.

When he breaks the news to Éponine, she throws herself back onto his bed and shouts in frustration.

"I am actually having withdrawal symptoms. Ice cream should not do this to a person."

"We could always go out and buy some more ourselves?" Grantaire suggests.

Éponine sits up sharply. "And admit defeat? Never!"

Grantaire chuckles and flops down beside her, draping his arm round her shoulder.

* * *

The beeping of Éponine's alarm rips through the veil of sleep and it takes all her willpower not to throw her phone violently at the opposite wall. She fumbles around for a few seconds before she manages to shut it off. Satisfied, she flops back down and pulls the covers up to her chin, closing her eyes again.

Soft curls tickle her cheek as Enjolras leans over and kisses her cheek.

"You really need to get up now, Ep."

"Fuck off. 5 more minutes."

Enjolras chuckles quietly. "Ep, this is the fourth alarm you've turned off."

"And yet you're more annoying and insistent than all of them put together."

"I try. Now get up." He pokes her in the ribs.

"Oh my god you're so fucking irritating!"

"You have a lecture in 45 minutes."

"I don't care, I'm tired."

He strokes her hair, and when he speaks, Éponine can tell that he is smirking. "Well to be fair, I did try and tell you to get some sleep last night, but you were much more engrossed in-"

"Okay, okay, Jesus!" She throws her pillow in his general direction and essentially falls out of the bed into a standing position.

To get back at him, she pulls her nightshirt off far more seductively than is necessary before she steps into their en suite.

"That was cruel, Ep!" He calls after her.

She ignores him, grinning triumphantly to herself.

* * *

Éponine swears she's going to shoot her lecturer. In 20 minutes he's managed to explain the same thing 3 times over, and then contradict himself on the same matter. She's so bored; resorting to doodling all over her notes. She takes a picture of a particularly graphic representation of the professor being eating by a dragon, and sends it to Grantaire with a **:D x **as the caption.

His response is almost immediate.

**Wow. Are you sure you chose the right degree Ep? You put my sketchbooks to shame. R x**

She types out her reply:

**Go fuck yourself x **

But her phone buzzes again before she can press send.

**Never again will I complain about your unwillingness to back down from confrontation. We've hit the fucking jackpot! :D R x**

There is a picture attached. Éponine opens it and sees 8 tubs of Chocolate Fudge Brownie and a single pot of Cookie Dough sitting on the top shelf of the open freezer. She grins, and edits her message.

**I think Reservoir Dogs is in order tonight as a celebration of our victory. x**

**I couldn't agree more. R x**

The lecturer dismisses them and Éponine hurries out, beaming. Her phone buzzes again.

**I can't believe you're using my serious list of rules to swindle free ice cream out of the other tenants. E**

She laughs, typing back fast.

**I'll give you a whole tub of Chocolate Fudge Brownie to yourself if you leave it up there. x**

**I can't believe you're bribing me on top of that! Do you honestly think that would sway me? E**

Another message comes through 30 seconds later.

**Deal. E**


	13. xii

_**12. If you cannot fit the ice cream you owe them in the freezer, you are at their beck and call to buy it tub by tub for them until the debt is repaid.**_

* * *

_Cruel hands snake through the open window and into the boy's bed. They drag him from his sleep and from his resting place and they give him no time to cry for help before they have removed him from the room and bundled him into their van. There are no license plates, there is no identification, and within minutes the small blonde boy has vanished into the murky underbelly of the city. He never said goodbye._

"Éponine! Wake up!"

Éponine inhales sharply and sits bolt upright, chest heaving. Her hair is plastered to her forehead, damp with sweat, and unchecked tears roll freely down her cheeks. Strong hands manoeuvre her around and a cool forehead presses against her own so she has no choice but to stare into Enjolras's glacial blue eyes.

"Ep, shhhhhh. It was just a dream. Listen to me! It was only a dream! You're here, you're safe, it's okay, shhhhhhh."  
Small whimpers spill from Éponine's lips and she cannot stem the flow of tears. She reaches instinctively for his face and pulls Enjolras into a messy and brief kiss. She falls into his arms and he holds her tightly to him as the tendrils of the dream recede slowly back into the dark corners of her mind.

"They took Gav again." Her voice comes out in a hoarse whisper, thick and halting from the harsh sobs still shaking her shoulders.

His hands run through her tangled hair, soft but insistent, and the repeated motion calms her somewhat. Eventually they slide back down into the covers and Éponine snuggles as close to Enjolras as she can. She buries her head in his shoulder and keeps her hands firmly wrapped around his neck. He continues to soothe her but her mind is alert and tense; she cannot sleep yet.

He seems to read her mind. "Do you want to go and check on him?"

She nods quietly against his skin, and he kisses the top of her head tenderly as he moves to get up.

They silently cross the living room floor after donning pajamas, and creep carefully up the two flights of stairs to the top floor. Enjolras pushes the handle down slowly and the door opens into Gavroche's room. Éponine breathes a sigh of relief as she sees him curled up like a cat under his duvet. She feels Enjolras's hand take her own and squeeze it reassuringly. She looks at him and he smiles gently at her.

A tiny clatter from downstairs startles them. Enjolras freezes. A louder noise drifts up the stairs.  
"What was that?" Éponine whispers.

"It came from the kitchen," Enjolras murmurs. "Go back to bed. I'll handle this."

Éponine snorts and he looks at her. "Ep, I'm serious."

"Really, Enj? _Really_?" She rolls her eyes. "It's probably nothing serious. Come on."

She moves quickly down through the house and steals across the floor to the edge of the kitchen. When she turns the light on, she finds Marius crouched by the freezer, slowly removing tubs of Ben and Jerry's into a carrier bag on the tiles in front of him.

He blanches when he sees her, then a slow red blush creeps up his cheeks.

"You little shit! What the fuck do you think you're doing stealing _my_ ice cream in the middle of the night!"

"I... er... well... I.."

"Marius, I have to say even I am confused by your behaviour. That ice cream is undoubtedly Éponine's and Grantaire's."

Éponine turns to Enjolras. "Watch him, I'm going to grab 'Taire."

He nods and she walks quickly up to Grantaire's room, knocking loudly. "R! Get up! You will want to see this!"

After about half a minute, he answers the door, sleep touseled and rubbing his eyes wearily. "Ep, what the fuck is the matter?"

She simply takes his hand and drags him back down to the kitchen. His eyes widen as he sees Marius crouched on the floor.

"You sneaky fucker! That's our stash!"

"Cosette wanted some and none of the shops were open!" He protests weakly.

"So you resorted to taking _our_ice cream from a house you barely even live in anymore, for a girlfriend we _still_haven't met?"  
He looks down at the floor, embarrassed.

"Well, Marius, you know the rules. You've got to replace it in 24 hours or interest will build up."

Éponine smirks as Enjolras speaks. Paying him in some of the interest has definitely been worth it.

Marius huffs.

"Now put that all back."

He complies grudgingly.

"You really thought you could get away with this the second time?" Grantaire asks smugly.

Marius looks at him, perplexed. "It wasn't me the first time."

"Really?"

Marius nods. Éponine smirks. "The mystery of the elusive first thief continues!"

As Marius stands up from the freezer, realisation flashes over his face. "Hang on! If I've put all this back then there's nothing to replace!"

It is Enjolras's turn to smirk. "But you must realise it is the principle of the matter, Marius. Had we not already been awake then you would have escaped back to Cosette's with the ice cream. I fully support their right to uphold the rule. Goodnight." He speaks with a finality that leaves no room for argument and Éponine follows him back to their bedroom, more swing in her step than there was 20 minutes ago.

* * *

Éponine and Grantaire are lounging on the sofa between Feuilly and Bahorel when Marius finally makes a reappearance at the house.

"About fucking time," Grantaire mumbles.

"Er, guys, I want to talk to you about the ice cream."

"If you've come back empty handed Pontmercy I swear to God-"  
"You're not going to be able to fit 17 tubs of ice cream in the freezer!" Marius speaks hurriedly.

"He has a point!" Enjolras calls in from the kitchen.

Éponine scowls. "Well maybe if you'd sorted this out earlier in the week, you wouldn't be having this issue!"

"Ep?" She turns to look at Grantaire, whose eyes are twinkling mischievously. "I have an idea."

As he whispers in her ear, a wider and wider smirk covers her face. "R, you are a genius."

The two of them hurry into the kitchen, Marius in tow. As they step back from the fridge, he huffs.

"Come on, that's not fair! Enj do something!"

Enjolras looks up from his cooking, and reads the latest addition to the rules. He snorts. "To be quite honest Marius, I think that's fair enough."

Éponine hi fives Grantaire as Marius groans.

* * *

Éponine and Grantaire are mostly reasonable with their first few gives up protesting after number 6, dejectedly accepting his duties. On Wednesday afternoon, which is particularly quiet in the bookshop, Éponine gets a text from Grantaire.

**I don't know about you, but I quite fancy cashing in another tub? What about you? R x**

She grins and responds.

**Definitely. Get your arse down here and we'll do dramatic readings from the erotic literature. x**

Éponine sends another message to Marius.

**Oh slave, the cynic and I are feeling rather run down. We require a large cooling tub of Ben and Jerry's at the bookshop, stat.**

His response is brief and irritated.

**I'm in a lecture!**

She ignores him.

**You have 15 minutes.**

When Grantaire arrives, there is already a pot and two spoons sitting on the counter, with a triumphant Éponine sitting behind it, flipping through the pages of a trashy novel and grinning broadly.

* * *

Marius complains more vocally when they instruct him to run to the shops down at the Musain on Friday night.

"We've literally just got here!"

"And R and I fancy some Cookie Dough. Scoot."

* * *

"R, we can't! It's one o clock in the morning!"

He looks at her skeptically.

"Okay, we can."

Éponine pauses the film and wanders down the hall to Marius's room, which he is actually sleeping in for the first time in about 3 weeks. He comes to the door, looking incredibly irritated.

"No. I refuse. Fuck you."

He goes to shut the door but Grantaire's foot appears out of nowhere and blocks it.

"Consider it payback for the time you used Éponine as your personal postman. I want some ice cream. The supermarket down the road is 24 hour. Move."

Marius and Grantaire stare each other down and Éponine swears Grantaire is about to hit Marius before he concedes and slips on a hoodie before disappearing downstairs.

"Wow. That was intense."

Grantaire grins at her.

"When they sit back down on the bed, Grantaire turns to her.

"Why _did_you deliver those letters for him, Ep?"

She sighs heavily. She knows the topic would have come up at some point sooner or later.

"Before her dad adopted her, she lived with us."

Grantaire splutters. "Excuse me?"

"I know. Hard to believe. Anyway, 'Zelma and I were never exactly nice to her. When I found out she was dating Marius, at the time I was still totally head over heels for him. Don't fucking laugh, I was an idiot. I was a total bitch about her then as well, and I felt really guilty, and I actually kind of wanted to do something nice."

"Okay, fair enough, but he was a total douche about it!"

Éponine sighs. "I realise that _now._"

Grantaire puts his arm around her. "Come on. I fancy something lighthearted. Let's watch Tangled."

"Oh god, I have never been more in the mood for singing animated Vikings."

The pair snuggle up under a blanket and light a cigarette, waiting for Marius to return.


	14. xiii

**A/N: As those of you who follow me on Tumblr will be aware of, after the last chapter got published, I ended up with an anon that was being really spiteful and hurtful. This chapter is dedicated mostly to Emma (dawnofthedusk), who literally spent an hour looking after me via askbox, but also to every single one of you that sent lovely messages in response. Your support is literally what kept this fic from being impulsively deleted. **

**Also everyone must bow down to the majesty of Hannah (azelma-jondrette) for being the most badass shield maiden of the e/é pairing that has ever existed. She told those haters to sit the fuck down and literally destroying every single argument that was thrown at her, but in the classiest way possible. I doff my cap to you madam. May you long protect our ship.**

* * *

**_13. Throwing things at Marius when he starts talking about Cosette is only permitted after the 10th offense of the day. Shouting "NO ONE CARES ABOUT YOUR LONELY SOUL." is acceptable at any time._**

* * *

"Did you know Cosette has a puppy? Her dad bought her one last year."

"Wow. Seriously Marius, I don't think your girlfriend's life could be any more interesting."  
Marius either ignores Éponine's sarcasm or doesn't register it. "Oh no! She does plenty of interesting things! She just started taking Yoga on a Tuesday morning..."

Éponine rolls her eyes and silently throws her hands up in frustration. As Marius rambles on about Cosette's weekly schedule, she surreptitiously pulls a book from the shelf behind the sofa. It is one of Combeferre's Ethics textbooks and Éponine has to hold it with both hands as she lines it up to launch at Marius. A voice in her ear makes her yelp with fright and drop the book onto the carpet with a heavy _thump._

"Please don't throw that at him. I really don't want to have to deal with the paperwork if it kills him."

"One day, Enj, you are going to sneak up on me, and instead of squealing, I am going to deck you."

"I await that day with bated breath."

Enjolras sits down on the sofa next to her, avoiding her irritated shove. Marius is still talking.

"Please let me throw something at him."

"No."

"What happens if I do it anyway?"

"Then this entire house will descend into anarchy because the others will follow your lead and Marius will end up buried under personal items or pieces of furniture." He pauses. "Or perhaps both."

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

Enjolras chuckles softly. "His constant rambling is getting a little tiresome."

Éponine raises one eyebrow at him, trying to convey as much _are you fucking kidding me _as possible. They are interrupted by Courfeyrac walking halfway down the stairs and groaning loudly when he hears Marius's topic of conversation. He makes a bee line for the coffee table and picks up the copy of The Complete Works of William Shakespeare that Jehan left there, and goes to catapult the heavy tome at Marius. Éponine kicks him and makes a slashing motion with her hand across her neck, then turns back to Enjolras smugly. He concedes.

"Alright, I've got an idea."

Enjolras leaves Éponine on the sofa and walks to the kitchen. Courfeyrac replaces him. They catch each other's eye and both of them shape their fingers into guns and place them into their mouths simultaneously. Éponine giggles loudly.

"Marius?" Enjolras calls.

Marius cuts off halfway through describing Cosette's in depth bedtime routine. "Yes?"

Enjolras returns to the living room. "We have a new rule. It involves you."

Marius looks at him blankly.

"Everyone is getting really bored with your constant talk of Cosette."

"Well that's an understatement. We probably know more about her than her actual friends, and we've never even met her."

"I would say bored is the wrong word. Infuriated, frustrated, and close to tears are probably more accurate." Grantaire has surfaced from his "deadline cave" as he refers to it, and flops down on the other side of Éponine.

Marius looks around, completely bewildered. "I don't talk about her _that_ much."

Éponine snorts.

Combeferre has joined the congregation now. "No offence Marius, but, yes, you really do."

"My _point,_" Enjolras continues, irked slightly, "is that I have prevented blunt force trauma to your head twice in the last five minutes. I know full well I am friends with the sort of people that will directly ignore a blanket ban." He stares pointedly at the three individuals squished on the sofa. They all raise their fists in acknowledgement. "So the only solution I can feasibly propose, is that after a certain number of lapses in a day, there are no restrictions on punishments."

"How many?" Marius asks, apprehensively.

"10."

Éponine lets out a harsh bark. "Ha! He'll last less than 5 minutes!"

"Hey!"

"That's a little harsh Ep," says Grantaire reproachfully. Marius shoots him a grateful look. "I give him two hours at the outside."

Combeferre checks his watch. "It's 4 minutes past 6 Marius, We'll start counting now."

* * *

**6:07pm**

Grantaire has made popcorn and everyone has settled down in the living room to watch MirrorMask at Éponine's insistence. "Neil Gaiman can literally do no wrong."

Jehan tries to argue that they should watch Third Star. "It's such a beautiful film. I cry every time."

Marius pipes up. "They go to Barafundle Bay in that don't they? Cosette's dad took her on holiday there once."

Éponine smirks. "Strike one, Pontmercy."

* * *

**6:13pm**

Grantaire gets up to grab a beer. There is a mad rush to claim his space on the sofa, which Jehan emerges from triumphantly, and he snuggles up to Courfeyrac happily. Grantaire comes back in looking incredibly miffed, to which Courfeyrac, Feuilly, Bahorel and Combeferre all reply "on your feet, lose your seat."

Éponine gestures to the floor in front of her and Grantaire sits between her legs, leaning against the couch. She strokes his hair gently, until Marius whispers quietly. "I love stroking Cosette's hair. It's so soft, like she's got kittens living on her head."

Grantaire spits out the mouthful of drink he was about to swallow.

"It still counts if you say it quietly, Marius."

* * *

**6:21pm**

Gavroche has downed a 2 litre bottle of lemonade and now desperately needs the loo. Combeferre pauses the film.

"Fag break!" Éponine exclaims, and her, Grantaire, Bahorel and Enjolras all move to the back door. Feuilly immediately leaps into Éponine's spot.

Enjolras passes round his lighter, as Marius grumbles. "I'm glad Cosette doesn't smoke."

Bahorel takes a long drag, wanders over to Marius, and exhales in Marius's face.

"I really couldn't give a flying fuck what your girlfriend's nicotine habits are, Marius." Grantaire retorts.

"And I really don't think you're even trying to shut up. Strike 3."

* * *

The fourth offense is at 6:23.

The fifth is at 6:24.

He manages to last another 45 minutes before he mentions Cosette a sixth time. By this point, even Jehan with all his gentle patience is getting visibly irritated.

At the seventh (7:12), Grantaire dumps the whole bowl of popcorn over his head in protest. Éponine starts picking the kernels out of his hair whilst Enjolras complains under his breath about treading food into the carpet. Éponine flicks the kernels at him once she's extracted them from Grantaire's tight black curls, claiming that there is no rule against throwing things at _him._

Éponine misses the 8th reference two minutes later, because her and Grantaire have roped Enjolras into a furious popcorn throwing fight.

The only person to catch the 9th (7:56) is Combeferre, because the popcorn fight has turned into all out war, with Marius sitting in the middle of the living room, sulking. Everyone has refused to engage him in battle, declaring that he still had two strikes before it was permitted.

The tenth reference isn't until quarter to 8. Everyone is lying scattered across the living room, the remnants of their fight peppered between them and the film quite forgotten.

"I can honestly say I have no idea why I participated in that." says Enjolras, panting.

Grantaire laughs breathlessly. "You can't resist a fight Enj, revolution is in your blood." He pauses. "That, and your girlfriend has been a horrifically bad influence on you."

"That, I cannot refute."

"I would like to think Cosette's been a good influence on me." Marius says absent-mindedly from the sofa.

"Everyone, please select your projectile of choice; that was strike 10!" Combeferre calls from near the kitchen.

"When was 9?" Éponine asks, puzzled.

"When you flipped over the sofa and Gavroche accidentally punched Feuilly in the face."

"Oh, okay. Prepare yourself Pontmercy!"

Marius starts to protest, but Courfeyrac shouts over him. "NO ONE CARES ABOUT YOUR LONELY SOUL!"

"Hey that's good!" Grantaire grins. "We should yell that every time he talks about Cosette."

"I can allow that." smirks Enjolras.

Everyone arms themselves with books; pencils; coasters; anything they can find.

Éponine turns to Courfeyrac and Grantaire. The three of them grin identically.

"Ready?" Éponine says.

"Aim!" Courfeyrac's voice is tinged with mischief.

"FIRE!" Cries Grantaire.

Marius raises his arms to shield himself from the onslaught, loud promises to never mention his girlfriend in their company again lost underneath the roars of mirth from the rest of the group.

* * *

**A/N: EVERYONE BRACE YOURSELVES FOR THE HALO MARATHON. I'M PROBABLY MORE EXCITED THAN YOU ARE.**


	15. xiv

**A/N: I COULDN'T WAIT. IT WAS CALLING TO ME.**

* * *

**_14._** **_The battle to decide which team Eponine plays Halo with on Halo Night (every other Thursday) shall be carried out the night before. As the subject of the duel, Eponine gets to choose the mode of battle. Teams pick one member from the opposing side to participate._**

* * *

Éponine's phone buzzes whilst she's halfway up a ladder stacking books, and she jumps so much she almost falls off. Once she climbs down, she pulls the still vibrating mobile out of her pocket, and scowls. Enjolras knows not to text her at work. She opens the message.

**You need to come home asap. E**

_That sounds ominous, _she thinks, but before she can ponder anymore, another text comes through.

**Make that NOW. E**

Éponine's eyes widen at his apparent distress and she rushes from the back room into the main body of the shop. Her manager turns round and he looks alarmed by her sudden and flustered appearance.

"Éponine, what on Earth is the matter?"

She thrusts the phone into his face in response. He takes a few seconds to read the messages, then laughs heartily.

"I'd move as quickly as you can, honey, if Enjolras is in trouble it has to be serious."

Éponine thanks him sincerely before sprinting all the way home, thanking her stars that she was allowed to wear trainers to work.

She opens the door and walks in on utter chaos. The first thing to catch her attention is Grantaire divebombing the sofa wearing a colander on his head. The second is a brussel sprout flying dangerously close to her face and impacting where Grantaire had been moments ago. She turns and follows the trajectory back to Bahorel, who is firing assorted circular vegetables from underneath the safety of a washing basket halfway up the stairs.

She hears snatches of angry yells from what appears to be two distinct camps set up on the landing and behind the sofa.

"YOU HAD HER LAST TIME!"

"SHE'S _MY_ BEST FRIEND!"

"I FOUND OUT SHE WAS GOOD AT IT!"

"WE SHOULD SHARE HER!"

"ALRIGHT!" Éponine's voice cuts through the madness. "What the FUCK is going on?"

Everyone stops, but none of them seem willing to venture an answer. Enjolras emerges tentatively from the kitchen, looking drained, and white as a sheet.

"Holy shit, Enj. What happened here?"

"They're arguing over whose team you should be on tomorrow for Halo Night."

A silence falls over the entire house, until Éponine erupts into hysterical laughter. "Is that _seriously_ what this is about? You're all too precious for words, oh christ." She manages, breathily. Eventually, she calms down. "Alright, for starters, I'm not goods to be bartered for, or fought over." She looks around pointedly, and some of the boys hang their heads, embarrassed. Jehan blushes scarlet. "But," she continues, with a mischievous smirk, "I feel like it's way too easy to just switch teams each time."

"So what do you suggest?" Enjolras's voice is tinged with apprehension; enough to make Éponine giggle.

"_So_, I think a new rule is in order. On the night before Halo Night, we shall hold a battle to determine which team I shall play on. _Under controlled conditions_, Enj, chill the fuck out, there will be no more airborne vegetables." Eponine placates Enjolras as he goes to protest.

Bahorel huffs in disappointment, but that seems to be the only objection to Éponine's suggestion.

"How about each team picks one person from the other team to compete?" suggests Combeferre. "That way, no one ends up with an unfair advantage."

"That seems reasonable. But before we do _anything._" Éponine looks around sternly. "You are clearing up this mess or so help me I will actually burn the Xbox."

Gasps of shock burst from the group, and Feuilly actually whimpers. She thinks Joly whispers _"you wouldn't!" _but she can't be sure.

"Well go on then! Hop to it!"

The boys scramble to their feet quickly, desperate to save their console. Éponine grins at the frenzy in front of her. Enjolras appears by her side.

"You are an angel descended from heaven, Éponine. I honestly don't know what I'd do without you."

"You'd lose your deposit on the house, that's for sure."

Enjolras chuckles. "So what contest are you going to set them?"

Éponine thinks quietly. By the time she has decided, the living room is spotless, and the two teams - Grantaire, Courfeyrac, Jehan, Joly and Combeferre, Feuilly, Bahorel, Marius - are facing each other off in front of her.

"Alright guys! Your challenge tonight, is a chocolate mousse-off. The team that produces my favourite, gets me tomorrow."

"Enj gets her tonight though," murmurs Courfeyrac, and the boys follow with a collective "wheyyyy!"

Enjolras scowls as Éponine valiantly attempts to hide her smirk.

"'Taire? Who are you choosing?"

Grantaire, Courfeyrac, Jehan and Joly crowd together for a moment.

"We pick Feuilly."

Bahorel's team pick Jehan, and the two venture into the kitchen, donning aprons like battle armour.

"Thank god Enj isn't playing or we'd all be fucked." Feuilly remarks.

"You know I think Halo is ridiculous."

Grantaire scoffs. "You never used to. You're just saying that because you're a really bad loser."

"That and you can't deal with me being better than you." Éponine says, nudging him teasingly.

Enjolras rolls his eyes in response, but makes no move to deny it.

The cooking begins, and Enjolras and Éponine leave the kitchen under Combeferre's sensible gaze, retreating to their bedroom for a while.

Enjolras flops uncharacteristically onto the bed as the door shuts. "Why did you have to develop a prowess for their favourite video game, Ep?"

Éponine giggles, and collapses next to him. "I can't help it if I'm just naturally talented at everything."

"You're naturally talented at simultaneously being the biggest pain in the ass in human history, and being my saving grace when it comes to the rabble currently crammed into the kitchen."

Éponine attempts to shove him playfully, but he rolls away. She shuffles closer. "Oi! Come back! I get to inflict some sort of pain on you for that comment!"

"I disagree. I complimented you."

"You called me a pain in the ass!"

"Are you going to deny it?" Enjolras turns to look at her, smirking.

Éponine rolls her eyes, and Enjolras leans in to place a long kiss on her forehead. She smiles contentedly under his lips. They lie for a while, foreheads touching, eyes closed and just enjoying their few moments of quiet solitude. His arm reaches over her and his fingers tangle lazily in her hair.

"Come on," she murmurs, as the rich smells of chocolate and tia maria waft under the door.

Two bowls of dark brown heavenly sludge sit on the kitchen side. Éponine samples both, wishing she could do this every day, because _god,_ her boys could make perfect mousse. She detects a hint of lavender in one of them, and that wins her over.

"This one." She points at the victorious mixture.

Grantaire, Courfeyrac and Joly all cheer loudly. Joly and Grantaire hi five, and Courfeyrac kisses Jehan enthusiastically. Éponine smiles. Of course the lavender was Jehan's idea.

"Thank god that's settled." says Enjolras, with a sigh.

"I can always let them go back to hurling salad around if you're going to get snarky."


	16. xv

**A/N: My thoughts and prayers to anyone that was affected by the bombings in Boston on Monday. Stay safe, and stay strong. All my love.**

**I apologise again for the update gap. I've been in a really bad headspace. **

**It is with great sadness that I must finally acknowledge my impending summer exams, and revise for them accordingly. As such, updates will no longer be regular, or frequent. They won't stop completely, I will try and get them in where I can, but I'd appreciate it if you guys were cool about it and not constantly badger me for new chapters. Things should be back to normal at the end of June. :)**

**On a side note, I've just hit 400 reviews. Wow. I love you all, so much. Thank you. **

* * *

**_15. Just because Courfeyrac discovered Éponine's talent for Halo does not mean he gets any special treatment in battle._**

* * *

"Enj, what's the time?" Éponine asks from the bed.

"10 to 6," he replies, without looking up from his textbook.

A scowl flickers over her face, then returns and camps there.

"Courf and Gav should be back by now, they went straight from school, and Courf is insured to drive the car now."

Enjolras doesn't respond, and Éponine sits up to look at him. He is hunched over the desk, pinching his nose in frustration. She slides off of the bed and snakes her arms over his shoulders and down his chest, resting her chin on his head.

"Are you okay?"

Enjolras leans back into her, and covers her hands with his own. He sighs, relaxing.

"I'm fine, thank you, Ep. Just stressed about my exams."

"I don't see why you're stressed, Mr eidetic memory-I-can-remember-everything-I've-ever-been-ta ught."

"I'm worried because this exam is based far less on regurgitation of facts and much more on evaluation using your own knowledge and opinions."

"So naturally there's a risk of it becoming a one sided violent rant at the examiner?"

Enjolras chuckles quietly. "You know me too well, Ep."

Éponine hears the door click and sighs with relief. "Finally!" She kisses the top of Enjolras's golden curls before rushing out to greet the arrivals.

Courfeyrac staggers over the threshold laden with bags. Jehan hurries over to help while Gavroche skips over to Éponine.

"I love it when Courf takes me shopping after school! I got to try all the different cheese cubes!"

Éponine rolls her eyes at Courfeyrac, who shrugs his shoulders unapologetically. Jehan squeals in delight from the kitchen and flings himself at Courfeyrac, peppering his face in kisses.

Gavroche pulls a face, then looks back at Éponine. "Courf said he'd be happy with the Lime and Ginger shortbread, but I didn't think he'd be _that_ happy."

Éponine giggles. "Go on, go and help put it away."

Gavroche scowls and pouts. "But I don't want to!"

"You're damn well going to help him put it away mister, or I am going to confiscate Portal!"

"That's not fair! Enj! Tell her it's not fair!" Gavroche calls over Éponine's shoulder at Enjolras as he emerges from the bedroom.

"It's absolutely fair, Gav."

"_Eugh_! You can't take Éponine's side just because you're in love with her!" Enjolras blinks in shock at the comment, but Gavroche has already turned away to whine at Courfeyrac. "Courf! Tell them it's not fair!"

Courfeyrac disentangles himself from Jehan and crouches down to his level, grinning. "Tell you what little dude, if you help me with the shopping, I'll let you watch Sweeney Todd with me on Friday."

Gavroche beams. "Deal!" He scurries off to the kitchen and begins unpacking the vegetables with a speed and enthusiasm Éponine would never have thought possible.

"You're indoctrinating him!" She exclaims, glaring incredulously at Courfeyrac.

"But Sweeney Todd is amazing!"

"How come _he_ doesn't have to audition?" Jehan pouts.

Courfeyrac doesn't respond to his boyfriends complaints, and instead watches Gavroche stack baked bean tins. A fond smile flickers across his face as he observes. Éponine feels a small burst of happiness in her chest when she sees it.

"Now that we have a midget slave taking care of replenishing the food stores, can we _please_ get on with this week's battle?"

Éponine jumps and turns to see Feuilly tapping his foot impatiently. "Fine. Courf, come on. Leave Gav to it."

Courfeyrac tears his gaze away from the small child and joins the rest of his team by the sofa.

"Tonight's challenge is to write a poem about... something to do with eduction."

"We pick Courfeyrac!" Marius exclaims. Jehan lets out a dejected whine.

"Bahorel." says Grantaire with a wry smile.

Bahorel groans, but for an entirely different reason. "I hate poetry."

"Well you've got to do your best or I'll be destroying you again tomorrow."

Bahorel rolls his eyes and goes to grab paper. Éponine goes to the kitchen to help Gavroche with the rest of the shopping, while Enjolras supervises the two teams in the living room. Éponine rolls her eyes as she pulls out Jaffa Cakes, Vanilla ice cream, posh chocolate, and chai spice.

"Remind me why I let you loose with the food budget, Courf?" She calls into the living room.

"Because I'm the only one that volunteers to do the shopping?"

Éponine grins. "This is true."

"Right, we're done!" Joly shouts.

"Bloody hell, that was fast!" Éponine returns to the living room and looks at the two submissions placed before her.

**_Courfeyrac - On excessive drinking_**  
_I would like to say in 10 years time_  
_That I will look back on my university life with pride_  
_But alas, I cannot,_  
_For a haze of alcohol has all but consumed my memories._

**_Bahorel - A haiku about finals  
_**_no no no no no  
no no no no no no no  
motherfucking no_

Éponine snorts with laughter. "Holy shit. Bahorel you win hands down."

Combeferre hi fives him and Marius thrusts his fist in the air. Grantaire looks disappointed but Courfeyrac looks absolutely affronted.

"It's not fair!"

"Dude, it's entirely fair. I judged, and I preferred Bahorel's."

Courfeyrac scowls. "But I was the one who found out you nine was so good."

"You rage quit Capture the Flag on Live so I took over."

"But then I got you started on the story campaigns!"

"Yes, this is true. But you are so dependant on plasma grenades it's a wonder you made it past the first level. Oh right, I forgot. You can't play on Hero or Legendary difficulty because they're too hard."

Joly snorts with laughter.

"Yes but had I not been yelling at the Grunts onslaught that I was failing so miserably at exterminating, you would never have developed an interest in the game."

"You're still not going to get any extra credit in the competition. Bahorel won fairly. Shut up about it or I'll think of a forfeit."

Courfeyrac goes to open his mouth in protest again, but Éponine cuts him off. "Or," she says with a smirk, "I could just steal your The Last 5 Years playbill and use it to fuel the fire."

Even Jehan laughs as Courfeyrac pales and opens and closes his mouth like a fish out of water.

Eventually he speaks. " Okay fine."

Éponine bows mockingly in acceptance of his defeat, then goes to the kitchen to add to the list.

"It's in writing now, Courf." She saunters back into the living room, Gavroche in tow.

"Enj, I really think you should consider getting your girlfriend exorcised. I'm convinced she's actually a demon."

"I have realised and accepted Éponine's harsh cruelty, Courf, and honestly I find it rather amusing."

"You are all ridiculous. I still think I should have some kind of reward. These battles wouldn't actually happen if it wasn't for me.

"Courf, if you carry on behaving like Gav, I will start treating you like Gav."

"Hey!" Both boys shout in affronted response.


	17. xvi

**A/N: AND THUS, THE HALO TRILOGY COMES TO A CLOSE. **

**This chapter i long and full of e/é. I'm not even sorry. **

**Enjoy the update, and good luck to anyone else that has exams! **

* * *

**_16. Gavroche is not allowed to play. Stop giving him the controller._**

* * *

Éponine scowls at the hunched form of her boyfriend, bent over a textbook and furiously scribbling in a tattered notebook lying next to him. She counts at least 6 empty coffee mugs. "Enj, you need to come to bed."

"I have a lot of work to do, Ep. I can't sleep yet."

Éponine lets out a frustrated hiss, careful not to wake any of the house's other inhabitants up. "Enj you're actually grey. You have bags under your eyes and you're shaking."

"I am not shaking, Éponine."

She folds her arms and looks pointedly down at his trembling hand, relaxed against the dining room table. His eyes follow hers and he sighs defeatedly.

"Alright."

Éponine blinks, confused. "That's it? I don't have to argue with you?"

"It's late, and I'm tired. If I'm honest, bed sounds wonderful right now."

Éponine frowns. If Enjolras was conceding, he was feeling worse than he let on. As if to prove her right, he stumbles as he stands up. She rushes forward to support him. "Alright, I've got you."

By the time she's manoeuvred the both of them through the living room and into their bedroom, Enjolras is leaning on her almost entirely. His skin is shimmering with a thin film of sweat, and his head is lolling to one side.

"Éponine," he slurs, "I think I'm going be sick." He detaches himself from Éponine and staggers to the bathroom, emptying the contents of his stomach into the toilet. He groans miserably, falling to his knees.

Éponine rushes over and pulls the curls back from his forehead, rubbing small circles into his back as he vomits again. She makes shushing noises and strokes his hair whilst his knuckles turn as white as the porcelain bowl he's gripping.

It takes almost an hour for the retching to stop, by which point Enjolras is completely spent, barely managing to open his mouth as bile falls from his lips. Finally, he sits up, leaning back into Éponine's chest. "I think I might be ill, Ep."

She snorts with laughter, kissing his damp hair. "I'm going to get you some water. Don't move."

She fills up a glass from the tap, then does the same with a jug for good measure. When she returns, Enjolras is collapsed over the sheets, sickly green in complexion and covered in a fresh sheen of sweat.

"Damnit Enj! I told you not to move!"

He grins humourlessly. "I thought I'd save you the trouble."

"You're going to end up causing me a lot more trouble than you prevent." Éponine scowls as she sets the water down by the bed. "Right, for starters, lets get you out of these clothes."

"Éponine, I am perfectly capable of getting out of my own clothes." Enjolras sits up, and groans before flopping back against the pillows almost instantly.

"I hate to say I told you so, but-" Éponine is cut short by Enjolras rolling off of the bed and back to the toilet to throw up again. She follows him.

"I told you so." She finishes. Enjolras looks up from the tiles and attempts to glare at her. Éponine softens. "You think you're done for now?"

He nods slowly, not daring to speak, just in case.

Éponine helps him move back to the bed, and he perches on the edge whilst she unbuttons his shirt and slowly pulls off his jeans. When Enjolras has been stripped down to his boxers, she throws the dirty clothes into a corner and manoeuvres him under the covers.

"I'm going to get a large bowl in case you wake up and don't think you can reach the bathroom." She says quietly.

Enjolras smiles softly. "Thank you."

She kisses his forehead and winces. "Holy shit Enj, you're burning up."

She wets a flannel with cold water whist retrieving the bowl and dabs it gently over Enjolras's fiery brow. "You are actually going to work yourself to death one day."

Enjolras mumbles something incoherent, and Éponine sees that he is drifting off to sleep.

"Sweet dreams, _mon petit rebelle._" She whispers fondly, before sliding into bed next to him.

* * *

"Only you could give yourself flu in the middle of April through working too hard." Éponine says sleepily the next morning, nuzzling into Enjolras's back.

"I must admit, it's incredibly inconvenient. It's going to take me far longer to get to campus today."

Éponine sits up sharply. "Excuse me?"

"I've got to get up to go to lectures in 5 minutes." He mumbles from the pillow.

"No you fucking well don't."

"Actually, Ep, I do."

"For fuck's sake Enj! You've been up half the night throwing up! Feuilly looked at you not 5 minutes ago, specifically said _"stay in bed because you will fight off the infection faster_" and you're actually trying to get up?!"

"Ep, I really have to go to lectures. It's important. My exams are less than two months away." Enjolras swings his legs off of the bed, then stands up.

He sways on the spot for a moment, then all colour drains from his face and he bolts into the bathroom to vomit again.

Éponine follows him and pulls back his hair chuckling softly. "You are singularly _the _most irritating and stubborn person this world has ever been gifted with."

"I thought I was well enough to go."

"And I'm telling you that I _know_ you're not. Come on, let's get you back into bed with a glass of water."

* * *

_Illness does not suit him, _Éponine thinks as she stops Enjolras getting out of bed for the 5th time that day.

"Stay put. I have things to sort out. Don't move or I swear I will graffiti _Enjolras 4 Robspierre_ all over your historical politics textbook."

Enjolras blanches. Éponine smirks victoriously and goes into the living room to call Courfeyrac. He picks up almost immediately.

"Is everything okay? Is he alright?"

The panic in his voice makes her giggle. "He's fine Courf, even if he is really fucking difficult. The idiot won't stop trying to get up. I was only calling to see if you could pick Gav up from school today. There's no way I can leave Enj for more than 5 minutes for fear that he might actually cause himself serious damage."

Courfeyrac laughs. "If he doesn't cause himself serious damage, I have a feeling you might. That's not a problem hon."

"You are a star, Courf."

She can almost hear him winking over the phone line. "Don't you forget it sweetcheeks." He hangs up, and Éponine smiles. She turns round to see a paler than normal Enjolras creeping into the kitchen. She rolls her eyes and regards him coldly

"Bed. _Now._"

His only response is to attempt to glare at her, but instead he descends into a uncontrollable coughing fit, and slinks back the bedroom without a word.

* * *

Éponine is cooking breakfast the next morning when she hears an angry voice from the living room.

"What the _hell _do you think you're doing?"

She moves to the door to see a small figure storming up to Enjolras - who has gotten out of bed _yet again -_ and jabbing a finger into his chest.

"Olivier Lucien Enjolras! You will get back into bed this second!" Jehan is a lot smaller than Enjolras, but the latter cowers under the poet's steely gaze. "Your girlfriend is trying her best to look after you! She has been up pretty solidly for the past two nights to make sure you're okay and she's _still_ up making breakfast for everyone! She's been working out a schedule for looking after Gavroche and getting everything done around here so she can devote all her attention to _you_! The least you can do is not make things any worse! Now turn around and get back under those covers _immediately _or so help me Keats I will put you there myself!"

Éponine's jaw drops. She looks past Jehan to Courfeyrac, who is standing at the bottom of the stairs looking immensely proud.

Enjolras lowers his head and goes back into the bedroom. Éponine manages to make it across the living room in time to see him clamber back onto the bed somberly.

"And damn well apologise to her for being such a pain in the backside!"

"I am sorry, Éponine." Enjolras mumbles.

Éponine has to contain her laughter as Enjolras envelops himself in the duvet. She mouths a quiet _'thank you'_ to Jehan, who is standing by the door with his arms folded defiantly. He catches her eye and grins.

"Ep, honey, make a list of anything we need food and drink-wise, and Courf and I will go and get it for you. If he gets out of bed again, let me know. I'll sort him out."

She smiles back. Then she remembers she was meant to be at work over half an hour ago and panic knots in her stomach.

"FUCK! I forgot to call my boss!"

"All taken care of, Ep. Grantaire talked to him on his way back from studio yesterday. All you need to do is text him and tell him when you're going to be coming back in." Courfeyrac calls from the living room.

Éponine relaxes into the desk chair. "I am so lucky to have all of you."

"Oi, Gav budge up!"

"HEY! There's loads of room!"

"You're hogging 2 of the cushions!"

"You can fit on that last one!

Grantaire's voice enters the mix. "Not if sit down. Budge up!"

Éponine sits up and looks at Jehan. The pair share a raised eyebrow.

"I'll keep an eye on the stubborn one, go." Jehan says.

Éponine finds Courfeyrac, Gavroche and Grantaire all huddled on the sofa and playing an intense game of online Halo.

"What on earth do you think you're doing?"

"Oh hey Ep! Look! We've found your replacement whilst you're nursing the workaholic back to health!" Grantaire says without looking away from the screen.

_"_Gav! It's really not cool to completely ignore your siblings when they talk to you!"

Gavroche grunts, button bashing fiercely. "TASTE MY FURY, ALIEN SCUM!"

"Okay, no." Éponine says, and snatches the controller from her younger brother. He glares at her.

"NO FAIR!"

"No Halo until you're 13, I told you. Now go and shower." Gavroche folds his arms defiantly and pouts at her. "Go!"

He sticks out his tongue and slumps up the stairs to the bathroom. When she hears the water, she turns to the two boys sulking on the sofa.

"Since _when _was it okay for 'Roche to play Halo with you guys?"

"Since we had no idea when you would be available to help us destroy the other team again."

"For a start, your team doesn't get me by default," she says, ignoring Courfeyrac's mumbled response of _"we should". _"And secondly, no way is my kid brother allowed to join in with this. He's too young." Grantaire goes to protest, but the look on Éponine's face cuts him short. In the silence, Enjolras's violent sneezing and coughing can be heard through the open door. "I have to go back and look after the violently ill marble statue now. Please try not to do anything stupid."

* * *

Enjolras's condition deteriorates considerably as the day progresses. Éponine dabs at his forehead, frowning worriedly at his sallow complexion. Incoherent murmurs tumble from his mouth as he tosses under the sheets.

Combeferre knocks on the door at about half past 6. "Ep? I'm cooking dinner, will you want any?"

Éponine suddenly becomes acutely aware of the hunger growling in her stomach. "Oh my god, yes please."

"Oh, Sophia's here to see you as well."

Sophia's face peeks round the door, and Éponine grins broadly. Éponine doesn't think she's ever been as glad to see her.

"It's such a relief to see someone of my own gender."

Sophia giggles. "Bahorel is taking me out for dinner tonight, but he forgot his wallet. I thought I'd check in while he's upstairs. How is he doing?" She asks, looking at the pale figure sprawled on the bed.

Éponine turns back. "Not great. He hasn't been sick since about 8 o clock last night but in the last 2 hours his temperature has gone through the roof."

Sophia frowns, but puts her arm around Éponine reassuringly. "I imagine trying to take care of him is incredibly frustrating."

Éponine lets out a harsh laugh. " You have no idea."

The two girls are interrupted by loud voices coming from the living room.

"Cover me!"

"On your left!"

"No don't shoot him! He's on our team!"

"Shut up! Ep might hear us."

Éponine's jaw tightens. "I swear to fucking God..."

There is a frenzy to turn the TV off and hide the Xbox controllers as she steps into the living room, and she swears she hears Grantaire say _"shit! Abort mission!"_

"Out of all your many redeeming qualities, subtlety is not among them. You leave me no other option guys." She states. They all jump round and Courfeyrac groans.

"_Please _don't put it on the list, Ep. Enj will throw a fit."

"Not my problem." Éponine shrugs, then walks past them to the kitchen, takes up a pen and adds to the list that is now spilling over onto a second sheet of paper. The three boys look very solemn when she returns.

"You're no fun," Grantaire pouts.

"And you're almost as bad as Gav. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go and make sure Enj isn't cooking inside his own skin."

Bahorel comes down the stairs. "Sophia?" He calls to the bedroom. "Are you ready?"

"I am indeed." She takes Bahorel's hand and he desperately attempts not to grin like an idiot. Courfeyrac makes a show of pretending to gag, and Éponine cuffs him round the back of the head.

"Are you sure you can manage them?" Sophia asks.

"I'll be fine." Éponine smiles. "Between Ferre, Jehan and me, I think we've just about got it covered. "

* * *

5 days later, Enjolras is finally back on his feet, to Éponine's relief.

"You are the worst patient ever. I dread to think what would happen if you were hospitalised."

Enjolras grins. " Thank you for looking after me, Ep."

"To be honest, what with Courf and 'Taire trying to corrupt Gav whilst I was otherwise occupied, looking after you was the least of my problems."

Still, that night they decide to take it easy, and everyone piles into the living room - including Joly and Musichetta, at her insistence - to watch The Breakfast Club.

Éponine smiles as she leans against Enjolras with her feet in Grantaire's lap. He massages her soles gently, and she smiles warmly, relishing in the contact. She has missed the artist a lot.

When the kids are sitting in the library talking, Éponine sneezes. There is a moment of silence and Joly pales.

"It's spreading! I knew it! SAVE YOURSELVES!"

He bolts for his bedroom and Musichetta rolls her eyes whilst everyone else roars with laughter. "Bear with folks. I'll be back in 10 minutes."

Éponine turns to glare at Enjolras. "I swear to God if I get sick..."

"Then I shall serve as your carer."

"Let's hope he does a worse job of supervising the Xbox use!" Courfeyrac mutters to Grantaire.

Éponine cocks an eyebrow at him. "If you're not careful I'll just confiscate it."

"That's not fair on the rest of us!"

"Yeah! We never tried to corrupt the littl'un!"

"I'm right here guys!"

Éponine smiles as the room descends into chaos. Enjolras murmurs in her ear.

"Sometimes I wonder if we're the only ones around here with any sense."  
She snorts. "Enj, you tried to go to University when you had flu. Any sense you might have had beforehand jumped out of the window and ran for it."


	18. xvii

**A/N: For those of you that spammed me and pressured me to update, you really pissed me off. It's one thing to express a wish for more story and ask politely when the next update is coming, it's another thing altogether to spam my reviews and my inbox yelling at me to write more. I really do not appreciate it, and do not think for a ****_second_**** that it was down to you that this got posted today.**

**If you had read my author's notes, I am right in the middle of my finals. I have had absolutely no time to update because I've been so caught up in revision, and I really do not appreciate people trying to force me to write when I actually have far more important things to worry about.**

**For those of you that actually bothered to read and pay attention to my author's notes and wished me luck with my exams, thank you. I have two left now, and I finish in a week's time. Your support was very much appreciated, and my gratitude for your respect for my silence is infinite. This chapter is for you. Much love. x**

* * *

_**17. Posting Jehan's poem drafts through people's letterboxes with a note underneath reading "my poetry is as powerful as my loins" and his phone number attached is banned.**_

* * *

Jehan is woken up by his phone buzzing next to his head. He fumbles around for it blindly for a few seconds, still half asleep, before managing to hit the answer button. He brings it to his ear blearily, voice slurred with exhaustion.

"Mmmhello?"

"_Hey._"

The voice on the other end of the line is female, breathless and a little nervous.

"Can I help you?"

The unidentified caller giggles, then hangs up. Jehan eyes his phone suspiciously for a second, before shoving it under his pillow and snuggling back up to Courfeyrac, falling back to sleep in a matter of seconds.

* * *

It rings again the next morning, although Jehan doesn't recognise the number. He picks it up again, but this time with a large amount of trepidation.

"Hello?"

A giggle comes through the speaker. Several giggles.

"Is there something you want?"

_"What? Besides you?"_

"Excuse me?"

_"Oooooh, girls! He's playing hard to get!"_

"Who is this?!" The conversation makes absolutely no sense to Jehan at all. More giggles through the phone. "I think you have the wrong number."

_"When do you want to hook up?"_

Jehan hangs up and frowns at his screen.

_Where are these people getting my number? _

* * *

The phone calls continue in earnest for the rest of the week. At first, they come slowly; one every few hours or so, which Jehan deals with politely and gracefully, informing the caller that they _must _have the wrong number, and he's not interested in whatever they are trying to get out of him.

When it increases to a call every 20 minutes and a seemingly endless stream of texts, Jehan becomes much more forceful. He stops replying to the messages and his answers to the phone calls become increasingly curt with every passing hour.

Three days after the initial call, he's so angry when he walks in the front door that he unintentionally interrupts a private moment between Enjolras and Eponine, who had been snuggling on the sofa until approximately 2 seconds after he crosses the threshold, when they jump apart and Enjolras flushes scarlet.

"Oh I'm so sorry guys!" Jehan exclaims, anger leaving his system to be replaced with an awkward feeling of guilt at having disturbed such an intimate display. The sight of Enjolras's fingers curling through Eponine's hair was going to imprinted against his retinas for a few days. It's so unfair he doesn't get to see them like that more often.

"Don't apologise honey. Are you okay?" Eponine's brow furrows with worry as she looks at Jehan's preoccupied expression.

"I'm fine." He brushes off her concern with a wave of his hand. "As you were." He disappears up to his room, barely managing to make it to his bed before his phone rings again.

* * *

The next day, he walks hand in hand with Courfeyrac to campus, bouncing happily. His phone has been silent for almost 12 hours, and he feels optimistic. The good mood doesn't last, as a familiar buzz vibrates his pocket as he walks past the student union.

he pulls out his phone and Courfeyrac frowns at his screen. "Unknown number?"

Jehan nods. "Yeah, over the last couple of weeks I've suddenly had this massive influx of calls from girls all trying to jump into bed with me. I've no idea how they even got my number."

Courfeyrac suddenly looks very guilty and Jehan raises his eyebrows suspiciously. The buzzing continues insistently in his hand so he picks up, rolling his eyes.

"Hello?" He says impatiently.

_"Oh my god, it's _you_?"_

He frowns. "What do you mean?"

"I never thought it would be _you_!"

The voice on the other end of the phone is also coming from a girl standing 3 feet away, by the door to the union. She approaches Jehan and cuts the line.

"When I got the poetry through the door, I expected someone more brooding and dark. But I can work with this. It's... different. I like different."

Jehan looks at her, utterly bewildered. "What?"

The girl rolls her eyes, and holds up a scrumpled piece of paper. "You posted this through the door to our flat _ages _ago_. _I didn't want to call at first, but then we heard the flat down the hall had got one, and some girl had called and apparently the guy on the other end of the phone was really dreamy and she started telling everyone to call. Turns out at least 20 flats had got paper through the door. Since the first girl plucked up the courage to call, it's spread like wildfire. Everyone wants to get in on it."

Jehan snatches the paper out of her hand and glances over it, whilst his hand darts out to grab Courfeyrac's arm to halt him as he tries to sidle off.

He looks up at the girl apologetically, making a silent vow to beat Courfeyrac into the next century. "I'm so sorry, but not only did I have nothing to do with these being sent, I'm also gay. My _boyfriend-" _He yanks Courfeyrac's arm so the boy is standing properly beside him instead of hovering a few feet away - "probably set this up as a hilarious drunken joke with our friends before we got together."

The girl looks a little disappointed, but decides to see the funny side because then she extends her hand for Courfeyrac to hi-five and she smiles warmly as he obliges. "You can't deny it's funny. I'll make sure I spread the word. See you around!"

As she saunters off, Jehan watches her friend approach her. The two converse for a moment, then burst out into hysterical laughter. He wheels on Courfeyrac, who tries desperately to suppress a smirk.

"It's not fucking _funny, _Courf!"

His boyfriend raises his arms defensively and backs off a few feet.

"I'll bet anything it was you, Bahorel and R, wasn't it?"

Courfeyrac's silence is all the conformation Jehan needs. "Eugh! You three are impossible! This is _so _going on the fridge when I get home after lectures today!"

Courfeyrac blanches. "NO! Eponine will kill me!"

"Not my prooobleeem!" Jehan sings as he skips away. Courfeyrac runs after him.

"Please Jehan! I'll do anything! Just save me from Ep's wrath!"

Jehan grins maliciously. "I want a chai latte every day before lectures."

"Deal."

"_And," _he leans in close and whispers only for Courfeyrac's ears, "I get to be in charge for the rest of the week."

He pulls back and Courfeyrac gulps. "Okay." His voice comes out in a strangled rasp.

Jehan winks, leaving Courfeyrac standing a little dazed as he wanders off to his lecture. His phone rings again and he looks at the caller ID.

"Ep? You okay sugar?"

"Would you mind explaining to me why there's _three_ girls in my lecture all giggling over what I _know _is your poetry?"

Jehan laughs out loud. "Sweetie, I'll explain later. But in the meantime, promise not to tear my boyfriend to pieces."

"I am promising _nothing_."


	19. xviii

**A/N: Wow I'm so sorry for the update gap! Shit went down at home after my exams finished and I couldn't really find the inspiration to write at all. Chapters will be choppy for the next couple of weeks because I'm on holiday but I'm gonna try and make them more frequent than I have been! I love you all, thank you for being so wonderful and supportive! xxx**

* * *

_**18. "I would climb you like a barricade", is an atrocious pick up line. Anyone caught using it inside the house has to stand in the corner of shame for 20 minutes.**_

* * *

"Please come."

"No."

"_Pleeeease_."

"No."

Éponine sighs and flops down onto the bed. "You're no fun, Enj. You haven't been out in _weeks. _Relax a little."

"My finals start in 3 weeks, Éponine. I have to work."

"You have an_ eidetic memory_. You can take one night off."

"Regardless of my mental capabilities, I still need to study."

Éponine rolls her eyes and leans forward over the sheets to snatch the textbook from under Enjolras's nose. "What does this page say?" She asks, looking up at him; challenging him, because she knows full well that he will be able to give her an exact reproduction.

Enjolras recites it word for word. Éponine snaps the book shut and smirks. "I think I've proved my point."

Enjolras sighs and stands up. "Alright, I'll come out."

Éponine smiles and places the book down beside her. She gets to her feet and moves to face Enjolras, taking his hands in hers and leaning in to place a gentle kiss on his cheek.

"Thank you," she whispers, as a smile tugs at the corners of her mouth.

Enjolras smiles back, and pulls her into a tight hug.

* * *

Éponine ducks off of the dance floor and joins the rest of the group at their usual table by the bar. She slides in next to Combeferre and takes a long drink from the pitcher in the flows easily and they erupt into laughter at one of Courfeyrac's more tasteless jokes.

Bahorel leans over the table to Éponine, smirking. "Don't look now but there's a blonde girl at the other end of the bar that's totally giving Enj the eye."

Éponine turns to look at the woman in question. She is staring - rather obviously - at Enjolras's tight red shirt and shock of blonde curls. Éponine giggles, because it's a little too ridiculous. She rolls her eyes at Bahorel.

"What can I say? My boyfriend's hot."

"I can't argue with that."

Éponine laughs, but she is interrupted.

"Hey - aren't you the guy that was part of the revolution last year? Enjolras?"

"Yes, that is correct." Enjolras replies to the girl, stiffly. Éponine witholds a snort.

"Let me tell you," the girl slurs, staggering slightly, and giggling drunkenly. "I would climb _you _like a barricade."

There is a split second of silence around the table before everyone erupts into raucous laughter. Courfeyrac looks as though he might be sick and Joly has tears in his eyes.

The girl, spurred on by their mirth, takes a couple of tentative steps towards Enjolras, but trips and ends up in his lap. The look of pure shock on his face makes Éponine's stomach ache from laughter.

He gently stands the girl on her feet. "I'm very sorry; your attraction is flattering, but I am spoken for."

Everyone is still laughing too hard to care about Enjolras's attempts to dissaude the girl, and nobody notices when he finally gives her back to her equally inebriated friends who all try and stroke his hair.

* * *

Everyone bursts into refreshed bouts of giggles as they make their way home.

"I would climb _you _like a barricade, _holy shit._"

"It was not that funny, R." Enjolras repeats for what seems like the 50th time, his tone becoming increasingly clipped.

"It was hilarious! I've heard a lot of pick-up lines in my time, but that seriously takes the crown."

Enjolras frowns at the mention of the monarchy and Éponine rolls her eyes.

"I have _got _to start using that," pipes up Courfeyrac. "Hey baby? How you doing? Remember the revolution last year? Well, let me tell you, I would climb _you_ like a barricade."

Roars of drunken laugher fill the night air, and Enjolras scowls deeply.

"I think the look on Enjolras's face was the icing on the cake though." Joly laughs breathlessly. "I don't think I've ever seen him that shocked."

"What about the time when he caught you and Chetta in-" Combeferre asks, but Joly cuts across him.

"ALRIGHT WE REALLY DON'T NEED TO BRING THAT UP!"

The group dissolve into fresh laughter, but Enjolras sighs with relief as their road comes into view.

* * *

"Woah, Éponine, you look beautiful."

Éponine descends the stairs, smiling and a little embarrassed at the awed look of all the Amis crowded into the living room.

"When you're attending a departmental dinner with the most renowned historian in the country, you make an effort."

"Girl," Grantaire grins. "I would climb _you _like a barricade."

Everyone laughs, but Enjolras slams his teatowel down on the kitchen side and storms out.

"Alright, enough! Seriously! That is the worst pick up line I have ever heard, and it really needs to stop."

"You're just jealous that the only person that wanted to climb you like a barricade was drunk and in a dark club."

Enjolras glowers at Grantaire. "It. Is. Not. _Funny._"

"_You _just have no sense of humour."

"He's right, Enj," says Éponine, checking her watch. "But I really have to go now. See you all later!"

She hurries out of the door and Enjolras wheels on Grantaire.

"I dare you to say it again."

Needless to say, he stays silent.

* * *

Éponine's alarm rips through the peaceful silence of Sunday morning, and Enjolras groans as he rolls over to slam it off. His arm flops over Éponine's still unconscious frame and hits the button with expert precision.

"Why do you leave that infernal thing on?" He murmurs to her sleeping figure, voice thick with drowsiness.

After a full fifteen minutes of failed attempts to doze off, he gets up to go and make coffee.

"Holy shit, Enj. How do you do it?" Courfeyrac is grinning from next to the toaster.

"Do what?" Enjolras asks, blearily.

"Manage to look so damn attractive this early in the morning." His eyes glint mischievously. "I tell you something,"

"Don't even think about it." Enjolras snaps, glaring at Courfeyrac.

"I would climb _you _like a barricade."

"Right, that is it." Enjolras grabs a pen and heads for the fridge. When he is finish, he turns to Courfeyrac and points to the living room. "_Go._"

Courfeyrac inspects the fridge and groans heavily. "We don't even _have _a corner of shame."

"We do now."


	20. xix

**A/N: I BRING YOU THE CHAPTER THAT EVERYONE HAS BEEN WAITING FOR. ENJOY IT.**

**Thank you to each and every one of you for reading, I am overwhelmed by your kind words and sometimes your keyboard smashes. **

**I dedicate this chapter to an absolutely wonderful girl, who has honoured me with her friendship, and who started me shipping E/É in the first place: unicornesque (youarethesentinels on tumblr). If you haven't already, everyone go and read her fics. They are absolutely beautiful. **

**Thea, you are an incredible human being, and I am still in shock that you like my poor excuse for literature. I hope you enjoy this. Thank you for being you, and never stop. All my love, an avid fan, and friend. R x **

* * *

_**19. When Eponine and Enjolras actually show affection in front of anyone else, it is unacceptable to gaze in mock awe and whisper "the marble man has cracked" in an ethereal manner. If you continue to do it, all rights to protect your testicles from Eponine's Dr Marten's are relinquished.**_

* * *

"Soooooo," Grantaire says, as the credits roll up the screen and Combeferre goes to turn the lights on. "What are you two planning for this Saturday?"

Enjolras and Éponine both look at him quizzically, the former raising a singular golden eyebrow.  
"Why would we be planning anything for Saturday?" Éponine asks.

Grantaire looks at her in disbelief. "You are kidding me, right?"

"Is something particularly important happening?" Enjolras inquires.

"Only your anniversary!"

Éponine frowns. "Is it really?"

Grantaire looks incredulously at the couple. His jaw hangs open and his eyes almost pop out of his sockets.

"Yes! You've been together two years!"

"Oh."

Éponine shrugs and starts flicking through the channels to find something else to watch. Enjolras picks up a newspaper. Grantaire wants to hit both of them.

"You are the worst couple ever!"

"So you keep telling us, R," says Enjolras, not looking up from the paper.

Grantaire lets out a frustrated shout and leaves the room, unable to cope with the difficulty of having such unromantic friends.

* * *

"So... Two years?"

Enjolras looks over at Éponine, who is watching him carefully from her side of the bed. He smiles softly, and puts his book down.

"It is quite an achievement." He says, finally.

"You're telling me," she replies. She meets his eye, hesitating before continuing. "Do you want to do something?"

Enjolras's smile widens. "Would you be willing to come with me for dinner at _le Brasserie Blanc_?"

Eponine looks completely shocked. "Enj, that's the most expensive and well known restaurant in the city. I'm not going to be able to afford that."

Enjolras just grins. "Well, given that my parents own it, I think we'll be able to manage."

"Are you shitting me?" Eponine shouts incredulously. "Your parents _own _that place?"

"They do."

She grins at him, eyes bright. "I'll go gladly, on one condition."

Enjolras raises an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"We cannot, for the love of all that is good and dear to us, mention it to R, Jehan or Courf."

Enjolras laughs and pulls Éponine into a one armed hug, kissing her lightly on top of her dark curls.

* * *

"Ep? You ready? They've all left for the club. It's safe to come out now." Enjolras calls up to her, voice muffled through the wood of the door.

Eponine steps out of the bathroom where she had been getting ready and hiding from the rest of the boys, and carefully walks to the top of the stairs. Enjolras turns to look at her. His eyes widen and his jaw drops slightly as he takes in the silver dress clinging to her skin, and flowing gracefully around her feet like water.

"Wow."

She smiles. "You don't scrub up too bad yourself."

It is true. Enjolras's nickname of Apollo has never been more appropriate. He is dressed in a sharp, black suit with a scarlet skinny tie and matching pocket square, and he is absolutely radiant.

As she reaches the ground floor, he takes her hand and kisses it lightly. The two of them step into the balmy May evening, and slide into Enjolras's car.

* * *

The food is, of course, sublime and talk flows easily between the pair. They laugh about their friends and the girls with no hope of catching his attention. Of course, Enjolras hasn't noticed the reverent stares of every other female on campus, and Éponine delights in imparting the information to him. Enjolras proposes a celebratory toast to their anniversary. She drinks deeply as the chime of their wine glasses rings over the table.

Éponine catches Enjolras staring at her more than once during dinner. Whenever she meets his gaze, he holds it unabashedly.

"What?" She demands finally, after they've ordered dessert, and her brown eyes lock with his icy blue ones yet again.

"I wasn't aware that looking at something I deem enrapturing required justification."

She rolls her eyes, but the comment makes her stomach flutter.

* * *

As they leave the restaurant, Éponine goes to return to the passenger seat, but Enjolras retrieves a large rucksack from the boot. Éponine looks at him, puzzled.

"I brought each of us a spare change of clothes. I thought we could spend a few hours wandering around the empty city together."

Éponine grins, wondering how on earth he found out she'd always wanted to do this.

She laughs quietly as she pulls out the clothes he's chosen. He's managed to pick out her favourite outfit, and even packed the second pair of socks she likes to wear with her Dr Marten's. She changes quickly in the passenger seat, then guards the door as he does the same. They leave their dinner dress in the boot, and wander away, hands close enough to brush every other step.

They walk into the centre of Paris, footsteps echoing through the streets. He takes her to all the buildings of historical note and she pretends to listen to his facts on the Eiffel Tower. She takes him round all her favourite places; the tiny memorial garden with the pond, the street corner with the wisteria older than her, the café which has a little old man that plays the saxophone above it, and of course, the plaza in front of the council hall.

He takes her hand as they gaze up at the grand building. She doesn't resist.

"Sometimes I still can't believe we were successful." He admits. "Sometimes I can't fully accept that I was a part of a triumphant revolution."

"I had a feeling you would be. The people were ready for change."

Enjolras squeezes her hand. "Thank you for believing in my dream Épona."

"It took you and your passion to get me to believe it."

They stand in silence, unspoken words hanging in the air between them.

A sudden impulse to dance comes over Éponine. She lets go of his hand and spins happily over the cobblestones. Her hair follows like a long ribbon, matching every turn; her silken shadow. She lets out a joyful shout as dizziness clouds her head, throwing her arms wide and stumbling slightly. Enjolras is watching her from a bench, laughing openly at her childish antics. She loves it when he relaxes and the weight of the world lifts from his shoulders. It raises his head and brings out his wonderful smile, and Éponine cannot get enough of it. She meets his eye and an odd but not unwelcome calm falls over her.

_Yes, _she thinks. _I could do this forever._

The fountain that is installed in the tiles suddenly comes to life and Éponine screams as the cold water hits her. She retreats hastily to a safe distance, giggling. Enjolras comes closer and Éponine whips her hair round, peppering him with freezing droplets.

He narrows his eyes at her.

"You are going to regret that, Miss Thenardier."

She grins at him. "Only if you can catch me, marble man. From what I've heard, statues can't run all that fast."

And then she flees, sprinting in the direction of the house. She is only just aware of Enjolras following behind her, hot on her tail.

* * *

Enjolras only has a few seconds to register that Éponine has vanished, before he picks up the rucksack and pelts after her. She is slightly faster than him; always managing to stay ahead. By the time they get to their road, both of them are completely spent. He slows to a standstill and sees Éponine do the same about twenty feet in front of him. It is only now he realises the car is still parked at the restaurant, but the panic is rapidly quashed; there is no time limit and he can simply pick it up in the morning. Comforted by the thought, he quickens his pace slightly.

By the time they reach the house, they are level, and they fall through the front door together, laughing breathlessly. The house is empty. Enjolras turns to look at Éponine and as she turns, he knows that this is it, and he has to do it tonight.

Éponine pulls him into a long kiss, and smiles quietly with her eyes when she pulls away. "I'm gonna go make us some coffee," she whispers, before disappearing into the kitchen.

By the time she disappears into the kitchen, Enjolras has a plan. He walks over to the stereo and pulls his iPod from his back pocket, plugging it in, and waiting.

Éponine wanders back out and looks at him holding the music player with a quizzical eyebrow raised.

He presses play, and she puts the mugs down on the table as the soft guitar chords form a stage for his words_._

"Éponine, I am terrible at expressing how I feel about you. I can stand up in the middle of a lecture theatre full of students, and argue with the professor. I can speak in front of 5000 people at protests. But I always falter when it comes to you. Hopefully this song will do my emotions some form of justice."

Enjolras holds his hands out for Éponine to take. He pulls her close, spinning her round on her way towards him. They sway gently, as the voice of the musician wraps around them.

_"There's fireworks. Would you lay here on my shoulder?_  
_We'll kiss the earth, as the crescent winds brings us closer."_

Enjolras smiles warmly, and kisses the top of Éponine's head as they turn.

_"Oh, save me with your sky, beyond these shadow spaces tonight._  
_Your raging sun, it burns beneath my heartbeat._  
_You rupture me, I fill you up."_

Enjolras pushes Éponine out, and twirls her slowly under his arm.

_"The core of you, it runs so deep inside me._  
_Like volcanoes, we erupt and we subside."_

He spins her back into him and she giggles softly.

_"This rain pours down. Will you bring me back to life?_  
_"I was chasing dreams somewhere out in the gulfstream,_  
_Until you crashed into me."_

Éponine smiles against his chest. His heart stops beating for a second. They continue to move around the living room; his left hand intertwines with hers and her right hand moves to his shoulder, poised so gracefully Enjolras swears she could be an angel, albeit a dark, fiery one.

_"As ashes leave us slowly,_  
_We fall, quickly into paradise."_

She smiles up at him, eyes shining brightly.

_"Your raging sun, it burns beneath my heartbeat._  
_You rupture me, I fill you up._  
_The core of you, it runs so deep inside me._  
_Like volcanoes, we erupt and we subside."_

As the divergent piano chords fill the silence, Enjolras leans in for a kiss. It is slow; deliberate, and she melts underneath his gentle touch. He loses himself entirely in her being for a moment, caught up in the scent of old books and springtime. They are just like volcanoes. She is unpredictable; explosive; hot headed. He is single minded; ambitious; overzealous. Together, they have the potential to tear each other apart and sometimes they do. Sometimes they are a complete catastrophe. But largely they tick along: calm, content and uneventful. For the most part, their relationship just _is_, and it is everything Enjolras needs.  
He pulls away, and she buries her head in his neck. He murmurs the last chorus into her ear as it is sung.

_"Your raging sun, it burns beneath my heartbeat._  
_You rupture me, I fill you up._  
_The core of you, it runs so deep inside me._  
_Like volcanoes, we erupt and we subside."_

As the music ends, they stop moving and stand on the spot, holding each other tightly.

"That was a beautiful song." Éponine whispers into his neck. Silence falls over the pair again.

Again, Enjolras is the one to pull away. He takes a small step back and looks Éponine in the eyes. He keeps his hands clasped around hers, and takes a deep breath, and finally, _finally, _voices the words he's been trying to say for months.

"Épona, I'm in love with you."

Her eyes fill with surprise. She opens her mouth to respond, but she is interrupted by a tenuous whisper from above them.

"The marble man has cracked!"

Both of their heads whip around to see every other member of the house crowded on the upstairs landing, gazing drunkenly down at them through the railings. They move apart hastily, the moment fading away like the ebbing tide from the shore.

"How long have you been there?" Enjolras's voice barely contains his resentment and irritation as he scowls up at the cramped sea of bodies above him.

"We knew you were going out _somewhere _together, so we all came home early from the club and hid upstairs when we heard you running up the road." Jehan looks as though he might cry from happiness, holding Courfeyrac's hand tightly. "Enjolras, that was beautiful."

"The mighty Apollo has a weakness! We have found his heel!" Grantaire raises his hands in mock celebration.

"That was Achilles, R." Joly snaps.

Enjolras looks round at the others. Feuilly is smiling fondly, Bahorel is trying incredibly hard to look uninterested and he can just about make out Sophia's small frame wedged between them. His eyes lock with Combeferre's, who just gives him a look which says _"about damn time!". _Enjolras chuckles softly, feeling his anger dissipate somewhat.

"I can't believe it. We actually have proof that Enj has... _feelings._" Courfeyrac's comment earns him a jab in the ribs from Jehan's elbow, and he yelps in pain.

Enjolras rolls his eyes. "And you wonder why Éponine and I keep our affection private."

"But this is revolutionary information! You know there's actually a rumour going round the University that you're an alien and that's why you don't have human emotions?"

Jehan cuffs Courfeyrac round the back of the head as Bahorel calls out "you started that rumour, Courf!"

Éponine coughs in disbelief. "_You_ started that rumour?!"

"How on earth did we get on to this? Would it kill you to give us 5 minutes alone?" Enjolras raises his voice in frustration.

"Dude! You've been together two years and this is the first time any of us have actually seen you kiss! Then you told her you were in love with her! This is better than the shitty chick flicks Joly likes!"

"Hey! Those films are a brilliant pick-me-up when I've had to test urine samples all day!"

"Oh my god! Fuck _off! _All of you!" Éponine sounds as annoyed as Enjolras feels. An idea comes to him.

"Excuse me." He says curtly before turning on his heel and walking calmly into the kitchen.

"Hey! Don't leave me alone with them!" Éponine calls desperately after him, but Enjolras waves her off.  
He takes the pen that is attached to the fridge next to the list and writes carefully on the paper. He returns to Éponine's side, looking sternly at the boys who are barraging her with questions. His gaze silences them, and he relays the first half of the new rule, pausing before he states the consequence for violating it.

Enjolras smirks quietly as every face pales in terror and more than one set of hands immediately cover their groins. He swears he hears more than one of them whimper. Éponine grins at the prospect of being let loose on the boys and she commands coolly.

"Now kindly, all of you: _Fuck. Off._"

Everyone scarpers instantly, terrified of facing the wrath of Éponine's heavy boots, and finally, the couple are alone again.

She grins smugly. " So... you're in love with me are you? Marble really can crack."

He goes to defend his words but Éponine simply rolls her eyes.

"Oh my god, I'm teasing Enj." She crosses the space between them slowly, stopping just short of him.

She smiles, letting out a small breath, and there is a particular warmth to it which Enjolras has never seen before.

"I'm in love with you too."

Enjolras feels himself break into a wide smile and his heart beats faster than it's ever done before. His lips crash into hers with an unparalleled fervour and she returns the embrace; the fresh intensity of her grazing month sets his soul of fire with every touch.

The kiss is interrupted prematurely by a shout from behind them.

"Fucking finally!"

Grantaire has returned to the landing and thrust his fists into the air triumphantly.

Éponine glowers at him and Enjolras is silently thankful that he is not on the receiving end of the stare.

"Seriously R, what the fuck?"

He smirks, unperturbed by her icy glare. "I hoped you were going to say it back. You honestly thought I was going to miss out on my best friend _finally _admitting she's fallen in love after almost a _year _of encouragement? This requires a celebratory drink!"

Éponine races up the stairs, vowing to beat him into infertility, but he slips expertly back into his bedroom, humming the wedding march horrendously out of tune as he slams the door in her face.

She wheels round to look down at Enjolras. The murderous look on her face makes him laugh.

"What's so funny?"

He smirks. "Almost a year?"

She rolls her eyes. "You can shut up right now!"

Enjolras laughs. He holds out his hands, and Éponine descends the stairs, sliding her fingers between his.

"Let's go to bed before anyone else interrupts us." He murmurs with a wry smile.

Éponine laughs, and the sound resonates through Enjolras. He beams and picks Éponine up, princess style, spinning her around whilst she giggles and squeals happily. He carries her into the bedroom, kissing her through his smile; the two mugs of coffee on the table quite cold and forgotten.


End file.
